Synergy
by TheBlankPageattheBackofaBook
Summary: Grell is not only horrified but hurt to find out William has been mutilating himself. Should Grell suggest the alternative to save his beloved's soul?
1. Chapter 1

Song fic; "Soul Society" Kamelot

Just to clarify, this is a WilliamxGrell ficcy! XD...Because we all love them, yes, I know. After seeing the OVA, and seeing poor William get tentacle raped...*sniffle, sniffle* I kept seeing something in him...Something almost human, and so, here it is!

WARNING; This fiction depicts bondage, self-mutilation, sexual/graphic nature, and homosexual intercourse. Don't like it, don't read and get the hell out of my library you crazy kids! Lolz, jk.

ENJOY!

But serious, this is some pretty graphic stuff.

* * *

><p>He tightened his belt around his upper arm; a tight as it could go under the veins were popping up from under the skin.<p>

He was now a fully fledged grim reaper, as expected of him since the day of his conception and his ancestors before him. This was a privilege, he was consistently told as he grew up in perfect stature and perfect education. He had been told he was an excellent student, and excellent example of what it meant to be a reaper. It meant a lack of emotion, a lack of care or interest in the soul meant to be collected. To obey the higher powers he had been born to crawl beneath, as if they were a greater god than himself. Now he knew though, this all was a lie.

Death was the incarnation of one's existence, they began with the death of their mother's womb. If the womb did not continue to allow death to pass through its erotic depths, for children could not be born. If the seed of a man was not at expense when it coincided with its fertile counterpart, he would not exist. Thomas...Thomas...the man he had reaped; the mortal who had penetrated his reaper self. He had no soul, at least, he had been convinced he had no soul. Reapers were of death, that incarnation of human legacy and human tragedy. They were the offspring of Hades, who had been sprung himself from an immortal stomach and then was to the world underground. Reapers were believed to have been lost souls baptized in the Archeron upon the arrival of Christ.

Whether true or not, what he had read did not confirm such a thing.

_If my soul could revive_  
><em> from my carnal remains<em>  
><em> what does it matter to me<em>  
><em> If it all fades to black<em>  
><em> If I'm born once again<em>  
><em> then no-one really is free<em>  
><em> How could I be condemned<em>  
><em> for the things that I've done<em>  
><em> If my intentions were good<em>  
><em> I guess I'll never know<em>  
><em> Some things under the sun<em>  
><em> Can never be understood<em>

Aside him were some tools he had taken from the mortal realm; a scalpel, a dull knife, and a few needles. He had removed his clothes for the most part, the only clothes that remained were his pants. He was not stupid enough to wear his formal, work clothes for the mortification he was about to present upon himself. His shirt was removed and a few towels sat under the chair he had secured his arm against. Within the metallic tools lied energies beyond his control, they tempted him like the Christian cross that his kind, descendants of Cameron, twisted into his scythe. Too literal, his erotic fondness of this hobby, as every scythe mimicked a tool used for life to grow.

For he was as a masochist; he enjoyed pain. He hadn't known why, but sharp pain of Thomas' record gliding through his veins...The pain, the humanity, the significance of life seemed so pointless. He had no major affect on any reaping, his existence was futile when there were so many being trained to take his place...To betray him and use him. He was nothing but a vessel, and as depressing as it sounded it was intoxicating at the same time.

He took the scalpel...

_ How can we believe in heaven_  
><em> Human reason counters all<em>  
><em> Ideas of a soul society<em>  
><em> my life is just a fragment<em>  
><em> Of this universe and all<em>  
><em> there must be more than I can see<em>

Blood was such an eerie red, it was beautiful against white, virgin snow. He hissed, tears in the corners of his eyes. He painted as he delved this scalpel deeper into his arm. It made him feel alive in this depression he found all too intriguing. He had been an excellent student; always curious as to what he could do to achieve perfection. The flawless technique he had worked so hard to achieve had betrayed him. History had chosen many to define the concept of fate, and he was it. He and his species-his dimension- were assigned to observe and act on it's guidance. This was double-sided; creatures of his caliber worked for fate with no spiritual growth.

The blood dripped down his arm and onto the towels like rain onto a summer rose._  
><em>

_ In the dark we're the same_  
><em> In the concept of time<em>  
><em> We're like a grain in the sand<em>  
><em> And we strive for the flame<em>  
><em> As if death was our aim<em>  
><em> 'Cause we cannot understand<em>

This pain made him feel alive, made him feel emotion that he knew fate would never let him undergo in depth via the beat of his heart. He had been born with no one, no love, just the sole purpose of reaping the lives beyond their control. They were creatures of no purpose, it was pointless to collect souls when life was meant to continue on and on. According to the Hindi religion, souls were put into new castes after they left the body. Why couldn't that be the case? Then again, there'd never been a study on such a thing...He'd never know what would happen if he neglected to reap.

The scum of the earth, the demons, weren't they any more or less gods than themselves? Surely, they were just the residue of human desires; greed, lust, avarice, slothfulness, rage, envy, and vanity; all of which he was silently guilty of. His menial existence enraged him_,_ his lust for mortal opportunities had enslaved him to a life of consistent observation, and his desire to at least one have a kind, gentle sleep drove him to a monotonous agenda. He hated the demons and the humans for this vain envy their limitless lives cast upon him. His young mind unable to process the pleasures he would and would never enjoy in his immortal life._  
><em>

_ How I wish there was heaven_  
><em> All for one and one for all<em>  
><em> a flawless soul society<em>  
><em> Our lives are just a fragment<em>  
><em> Of the universe and all<em>  
><em> there may be more than we can see<em>

"I am but a fragment," this was but a prayer he now wore under his sleeve, carving the words in with the scalpel; the jagged angles only making it seem like his own demonic seal. His jaw was clenched shut, loud grunts and pants echoed off the walls of his loft. He was too young to understand what mature fantasies lied beyond this masochistic pleasure_. _He wondered why he enjoyed this; it was debase, vile, disgusting, and even humiliating. People who had no monetary value were meant to bleed_, _the depressed, the stressed, the hopeless...Why him, he wondered softly as he took the needles. He jabbed them into the incised flesh of his arm; crimson streams wandering down his arms to form crimson harnesses. This pain was his shackle..."Waiting to be broken"

His shackle to mortality, this pain was the closet thing he'd ever come to an autopsy. The feeling of the still metal of these items, of their almost intangible, vibrating energy, forced his physical form to bend with the cool air around him. He didn't need to breath, but god how it good it felt to breathe. He was aroused by this electric force pulsing through the air, into his wounds, and chilling his spine. His arm was numb, his shoulder felt as if it were static energy. He laid back against the chair...

_ How could I be condemned_  
><em> for the things that I've done<em>  
><em> If my intentions were good<em>  
><em> I guess I'll never know<em>  
><em> Some things under the sun<em>  
><em> Can never be understood<em>

Sharp edges such as these could not kill him, only weaken him...The blood was leaving his body fast but with the strap on his now numb arm, clotting would soon occur and his arm would be completely regenerated by the morning. His body was weightless, he was a soul...A rip in time, a fragment being reincarnated over and over again with no purpose of self-worth.

For he was a drone...And William T. Spears became a masochist.

_ How can we believe in heaven_  
><em> All for one and one for all<em>  
><em> Ideas of a soul society<em>  
><em> my life is just a fragment<em>  
><em> Of this universe and all<em>  
><em> there may be more than we can see<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Song: Temptation Cradle of Filith

* * *

><p>He saw things in his blood that were monstrous, so monstrous he felt vile even rousing them from his veins. It had been about an hour now and the blood had congealed, his self-inflicted lacerations were slowly healing. He had neglected to clean them out though, thus they were healing around the needles and stitches he had aimlessly, and also in a very poor manner, sewn in to keep his major arteries from bleeding too profusely. He felt numb toward himself, he was repulsed and disappointed...To sink so low for pleasure as to harm oneself.<p>

Was that not a reaper's long vow?

_I've never been closer_  
><em>I've tried to understand<em>  
><em>That certain feeling<em>  
><em>Carved by another's hand<em>  
><em>But it's too late to hesitate<em>  
><em>We can't keep on living like this<em>

Death was an image of metamorphosis; the decay of one's soul was nothing but a broken mirror. The soul was not complete without the snipping of the Cinematic Record, and it could be ripped, manipulated, extended, or devoured. The completion of the metamorphosis resulted in that soul's final destination, decided upon by the reaper. He had vowed the day of his birth that he would die as well, along with these new lives that he would never be part of. For even in the pages of his diary he was nothing as the Tale meant for him to be. He held no love for mortals, only what they could provide for him.

And that was the pleasure of pain.

_Leave no track_  
><em>Don't look back<em>

* * *

><p><span>Present Day<span>

His hair was sleek and combed back, the oil keeping it style tightly above his forehead. It was rather uncomfortable, he confessed from time to time, but it was much less annoying than brushing it back consistently as he did his paperwork. Besides, he was not one for hairpins, like his subordinate, who sat in front of him now filing his nails.

"And why did you not complete this reaping?" he asked sternly. Grell rolled his eyes and checked his nails.

"Oh, you assign too much, William," he whined with a hum, "A lady needs her personal time,"

William sighed, "You will stay and work unpaid overtime for this,"

"Eh~!" Grell huffed, "No fair!"

"It is fair, Grell Sutcliffe, had you not skipped your last reaping to go clothes shopping instead of completing your work and getting to such a menial task afterward," William scolded.

_All I desire_  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Keep climbing higher and higher<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Adorable creatures<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>With unacceptable features<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>And trouble is coming<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>It's just the high cost of loving<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>And you can take it or leave it<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>But you'd better believe it<em>

Grell growled and pouted, crossing his arms. He continued to scowl at William, who was sorting out the overtime work due on the reaping Grell had skipped. This was no fair! He had been keeping up with his work for the past few months and now when it seemed William was off his back he was back on it! He had to admit though, the sight of those cold eyes staring through to him, staring at every sin and vice-like virtue that haunted his soul, it was intoxicating. Alas, he knew William was loathed to admit how beautiful those cold eyes were; pure like snow on the virgin night of winter...Ravaging, ravishing, and making a new world from the frigid tomb he had seduced the earth into.

Grell was the autumn, the death of the foundation William had inscribed on the now wed earth. With a flare of his flaming passion the leaves turned their true color; as William's green eyes did whenever they saw Grell, the reflection and refraction of red bound him to hating the season change a bit more every passing year. However, unlike the immortal seasons, their immortal flesh was not prone to such extreme changes.

_You've got to make me an offer_  
><em>That cannot be ignored<em>  
><em>So let's head for home now<em>  
><em>Everything I'll have is yours<em>  
><em>Step by step and day by day<em>  
><em>Every second counts I can't break away<em>

"Will~iam," Grell hummed, standing and walking around his desk. He grabbed his boss' upper right arm, unexpectedly drawing a gasp from his superior. He had never seen such a look of pleasure on his face, and even though it was an instant, the euphoria seemed eternal. Grell blushed even as his superior struck him to the ground. A ribbon of red streaked across his cheek, it was then he realized that blood had began streaming down William's arm at a hasty rate. Grell hadn't grabbed him that hard, had it?

"You will not touch me like that again, Grell Sutcliffe," the glow of white light across his glasses made him seem almost human, that look of sick pleasure lingering on his straight, frowning lips, "Now leave,"

_Leave no trace_  
><em>Guard your face<em>

"No," Grell huffed in defiance. He stood sharply.

"You will leave my office now, Grell Sutcliffe," he sat back in his chair. He didn't have anything to stop the bleeding at the moment, he was growing dizzy. It ran in one straight line down his arm, a self-inflicted line of pain and horrific pleasure digging out of his flesh and into the waking world.

_Full of desire_  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Keep climbing higher and higher<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>And you can take it or leave it<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>But you'd better believe it<em>  
><em>YEAH!<em>

Grell refused to leave, as the dizzy shinigami at the desk sulked momentarily, he hadn't wanted anyone to find out his sick fetish. Grell twisted his brow in confusion but also curiosity as William grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The way he was grabbing it though seemed quite unprofessional, as did the look on his face. He was trying to hide something about this pain he was undergoing, and Grell felt an almost desperate urge to find out. He undid his belt, quickly removing it and securing it around William's upper arm just above the place he assumed the blood wasn't streaming from.

"I told you to leave," William started, his free hand looking in his desk drawers for a first aid.

"Oh, shush up you big ol' meanie face," Grell pouted cutely, using his scissor scythe cut off William's sleeves, his superior grimaced considerably.

"You're paying for a new suit, I can assure you that unless you leave," he threatened.

_Step by step_  
><em>And day by day<em>  
><em>Every second counts<em>  
><em>I can't break away<em>

"William, what the hell?" Grell huffed, exasperated as he pulled the layer gauze off of his long, somewhat deep, incision, "This injury is horrible. Why the hell didn't you to the Infirmary? And then you bitch at me for not taking care of myself and acting immature?"

The laceration was indeed in very bad condition. It appeared to be infected, and his superior hadn't done much to stitch it up to prevent such a thing. The strange thing about it though was that it was a clean cut, and any blade that could cause such a painfully horrific injury was a death scythe. A mortal blade could only cause a temporal laceration, so he assumed that William had injured himself on accident and was far too full of pride to go to the infirmary.

_Keep us from temptation_

_Keep us from temptation_

_Keep us from temptation!_

"I've told you to leave twice already, Grell Sutcliffe," William spoke coldly, "I'd take my order and leave,"

"Not in this condition," Grell grabbed his uninjured and practically dragged him from his office, "I'm taking you to the Infirmary. You should really pay more attention to what happens around you, Will~iam,"

The red-head snickered back at him, "That injury is infected and if it proceeds you could get a fever or blood poisoning. Did you fall on your scythe or something? Honestly, William, if you don't stop acting like such a puffy ruler, it'll be the _death~_ of you!"

_Lead us not into temptation_

He knew they were going to find out about his sickness. He felt too weak to fight being dragged by his subordinate down the hallway, the blood loss had made him whoozy and he desperately wanted to be left alone to tend to his injury. He knew it was stupid to use his scythe, of any blade, to use as his tool of pleasure. It had been late though, and he had no more scalpels left, leaving the premises without notice of any impending reaping would've seemed suspicious._.._And he was in desperate need of his pleasure's release. _  
><em>

_Trying to find it_  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>You've got to get up behind it<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Put your dime in the whore sluts<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>But it's a million to one shot<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>You think you're right now<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Your gonna make it tonight now<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Give me a breakdown<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>  
><em>Because it's time for a shakedown<em>  
><em>Temptation<em>

He tried to kill his sickness, he tried to go weeks, and sometimes even months, without cutting or injuring himself. Somehow it always ended up with him going back to the blade...needles, scalpels, razors...anything...to bring him back to that sinful euphoria. He was an addict, he was a nymphomaniac to his own masochism.

"Mr. Spears," the nurse's voice was shaky as she cleaned his wound out, "This injury is infected. I'd advise taking a day or two off to let it heal. However did this happen?"

William sighed, "I fell on my scythe. I was out the other night collecting souls, it had been raining and I slipped off a gutter. That's how it happened, I didn't think much of the injury until Grell Sutcliffe dragged me over here for treatment,"

"Someone of your rank," she applied the anti-septic, William clenched the breath in his throat, "I would've thought you'd come here for treatment,"

"No one was here at the time," he clarified, adverting his gaze to Grell, who was cleaning his nails_, _as he waited for the nurse the finish up._  
><em>

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

"I had work to do, so I grabbed some gauze and a clothe, stopped the bleeding, and got back to work," William told her, and it was convenient enough of an excuse. It had been partially based on fact_._ He bit his tongue, hissing at the anti-septic.

"Yes, I know this stuff stings," the nurse sighed, "Do forgive me. I had to use a more powerful sort for this infection. After I'm done I'll prescribe some pain medication and almost something to finish off the infection. I want you to take tomorrow off, I'll have an absence slip ready and if tomorrow you feel like you need another day of rest, just notify me and I'll get another slip,"

She started wrapping the gauze around his arm.

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

"Honestl_y, _Mr. Spears," she started when she began walking away_, _he heard what she said under her breath and it made him shiver, "Didn't think you were the kind who liked this sort of thing,"_  
><em>

_Temptation_

_Temptation_

_Temptation_


	3. Chapter 3

Issues by Escape the Fate

Quotes are from William's Character Song. Sexy, ne? ^_^

* * *

><p>Despite that William understood perfectly that he was not supposed to get up for work today he was unable to sleep in. He woke up exceedingly early to the sound of thunder, it was perhaps three o'clock in the morning (he didn't bother to look at the clock.) He sat up in his bed, watching the sky crack and hemorrhage a great illumination that combined sound and vibration. He was tempted by the glowing mist of the sky since it reflected his scythe and how it would crack his white skin and spur over his skin a substance of great life and of death. He forced his lusting depravities down and turned away to the kitchen to make coffee.<p>

_This is the death of me_

_I feel it constantly_

_Just like an enemy_

_That wants to see me bleed_

His coffee was made very strong, he normally made it so keep himself from falling asleep at work. His wicked pleasure of bleeding himself and absorbing the pain of said incision often left him weak. His work also required quite a bit of physical strength and endurance, the reaper's anatomy allowed for such extensive movements between worlds but did cause quite a bit of fatique. Back the academy he often saturated his coffee with cream because of the bitter taste. He stopped doing that though when the illness started, and often drank it hot as to burn his tongue. These injuries would heal, and sometimes leave scars and his tongue would take great pleasure in the twinging pain.

It was then the phone rang.

_So I try to stay silent_

_While my words..._

_They explode like hand grenades_

_I just gotta stay calm_

No_, _it hadn't been the phone, it had been his imagination. He was going crazy_, _he knew it, he needed pain more than ever now. He was trying to reach out, trying to get someone to find him and stop him from his fulfilling the calligraphic engravings of his obsession on his arm once again. He needed the paroxysmal pleasure of his addiction to be sated. He had heard once that addictions tended to bring one to the end of himself, to become the very thing they hated before redemption...Demons, he hated demons the most. They were nothing but parasites disguised as the beauties of the world. He hated them, he hated the pleasures they could experience without the rules and regulations that the reapers were born to follow. _  
><em>

_Before I let this time bomb_

_Blow up in face_

_These issues pin me to the floor_

_These issues, are my overlord_

It was with no purpose, he knew so..."No matter what kind of complex laws...", "No matter what kind of tasteless, formidable enemy...", "No matter what kind of excruciating ecstasy..." He quoted: "Be clever and cool-headed, and do keep a clear determination.", "Have a hypocritical courtesy and shady etiquette."_, _"Damaging the flesh is intolerably haughty.", "Deceiving others' intelligence is rudely insolent."_,_ "The brothel of memories is arrogantly obstinate.", "That 'punishment for amendment' is a mere fallacy.", "The footprints of darkness represent total solitude."..."The blade of death is proudly imprudent!"

All of these proverbs led to that arrogant essence of death. Death did not need to occur, at least not for the soul. He kept his lucid thinking and determination. He was courteous to the dead and the souls he had to reap, but taking their life was the ultimate insult. He was the darkness that surrounded death, a negative space filled with both solace and fear. Damaging the flesh...The mark of their scythe never showed up on the corpse...But on him, and he deceived everyone's intelligence as memories of pain's excruciatingly orgasmic sensation flooded him with each penetration. They were stubborn, and he was arrogant enough to uphold their sway over him. He was alone...His existence was a fallacy, and death was the most unwise worship of all!_  
><em>

_I feel so dominated_

_These issues...They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

_(LIKE A NOOSE!)  
><em>

_They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

He was not produced to be worshiped, he was a drone and nothing more_...  
><em>

_They choke me like noose! (issues)_

_The hounds of hell, they cry_

_That's how they get to me_

_Inject my head with lies_

* * *

><p>He didn't go back to sleep that night, he spent his hours in deep, irritable fatigue staring at the medical tools he had left. They were dirty and unsterilized, so he wasn't about to use them. He tried pleasuring himself to the memories within the metal, to the cool radiation on it...To the energy that still lived within each half-life<em>. <em>Only staring at his reflection within blood-branded metal could offer him an indirect solace.

"Oh Will~iam~!" Grell's voice rang._  
><em>

_The pain's astonishing_

_Like a wick or a stone_

_Slowly crushing my bones_

_Sending me to my grave_

"Go away Grell Sutcliffe," William ordered from behind his front door. Being an excessively organized person, William always kept a spare key under his doormat and obviously Grell had found it because he was unlocking the door! William sighed and remained calm, he covered the tools.

He turned to the clock, it was about eleven in the morning...And Grell's day off. Hadn't he assigned him enough overtime to keep him busy? Just what he needed, more stress..."I brought you an early lunch Will~i~am~!"

"You didn't have to," William turned away, he was used to having Grell enter not only his office but his home at random hours, "You should be working on your overtime,"

_And it's such a fate_

_This life that I've made..._

_I'm going insane!_

_These issues pin me to the floor_

_"_Oh, silly Willy! I already finished it, ain't I just amazing?" he traced William's chest in gentle circles, "Hand~some!"

"Go away," William ordered, "I'm not properly dressed,"

"Oh, I don't mind love!" Grell purred, tracing the collar of his pajamas, "Maybe I can help you change into something less confining?"

William shivered in disgust, "No, that is highly unprofessional. Unless you've come here with the paperwork you owe me, I suggest you leave,"

"Oh, so mean!" Grell huffed, slamming a basket onto the table where William had hid his tools. The superior of the two paled immediately as the metal tools clambered together and fell onto the ground, the table with it. It was a small table, not very strong...He had it for over a century and Grell's anger had done the trick to break it.

_These issues, are my overlord_

_I feel so dominated_

_These issues...They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

_(CHOKE ME LIKE A NOOSE!)_

"William?" Grell furrowed his brow, kneeling down to pick up the tools, "What is this? Are these medical tools? Are you conducting unsanitary things with out me~?"

"Get out!" William yelled at him, grabbing him by the hair. Grell was quick though as his superior began to pull him out of the house. He twisted around and grabbed his superior's arm, pulling him back.

"What is going on with you?" Grell ground his sharp teeth together somewhat, blood began to leak into the hollows of his mouth. Even if William never responded to his romantic endeavors he never stopped loving him. He loved William the exact same way his superior loved work. He'd use precision and time, and act upon his aching heart to receive the seal of his significant others love. He'd sacrifice anything in his life, even his demon consort, for his superior just as William sacrificed his social life and devoted all his time to work.

_They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

_They choke me like noose! (issues)_

_Issues..._

_They choke me like a noose!_

Grell was devoted to William solely, despite how his whims strayed from one lover to the next...He never committed himself to them entirely. Only William, now it seemed that the darkest secret of William's life had been aroused by the red-heads presence. His passion for fire, for that rouge stain aglow in the night, was now being reflected by the metallic, rusty glow of the surgical tools on the floor. His art ached horribly, as if his heart were rusting just like these tools...He had been betrayed by his true love to a greater pleasure.

"Grell," William's grip weakened, his voice much softer than usual, "Please...Just go..."

"William," Grell removed his glove and touched his face. He had a feeling that if William felt a warm hand against his skin it would provide a deeper connection. His superior did not look at him, but he wasn't looking at the floor, he was looking down at himself.

_These issues...Pin me to the floor!_

_These issues, are my overlord!_

_I feel so dominated_

_These issues...They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

"If something is wrong," Grell started, "We can fix it, we can..."

"William T. Spears," there was another knock at the door, "Please open the door,"

William's eyes turned to the door, and they hardened instantly. What sort of softness had Grell roused his hardly animated soul? He shook Grell off of him and without looking he ordered him to pick up the table, take the razors and hide them, and then leave out the backdoor._  
><em>

_They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

_They choke me like a noose! (issues)_

_They choke me like a noose! (issues)  
><em>

_They choke me like a noose!_

"I'll be back, William," Grell's words were solemnly full of devotion, "And when I come back, I expect an explanation and I demand honesty when I ask next,"

With that brief exchange he left, taking the tools with him in hopes William wouldn't hurt himself anymore._  
><em>

_(...choke me like a noose!)_


	4. Chapter 4

Haunted by Disturbed.

* * *

><p>William remembered the first time he had began cutting himself...He sneered, he hated referring to his mutilation in such a generic way. He preferred to think of it as an expression of his devotion to his work. He only sliced his arm and abdomen up for the sake of his work. He had been born with a choice, to become a reaper or pursue another path any immortal could take. That choice had been taken from him, he was made a reaper anyhow at his parents' request. These were his scars from his work, the symbol of his dedication and the only thing that brought him pleasure. All for the sake of a reaper's taxing span of time...It was a hollow lie, and the surface was sleek and smooth in order to reflect a stronger image to its onlooker.<p>

As his superiors spoke to him in the comfort of his living room, he felt that pretense slowly began to crack. He could hear the hiss of it all in his head, like ice breaking under the weight of a steadily pressing boot. Pressure was being retained and added over a period of time, the surface was going to shatter

"We were recently told about your injury..."

_You're broken, so am I..._

_I'm better off alone_

_No one to turn to_

_And nothing to call my own_

"...And because of this disturbing information, we'd like you to take a sabbatical from work," one of them spoke. He was the eldest of other two, his hair was white and, much like the giddy mortician, he held a youthful complexion. William nodded and sat down, staring at the three. He stood back up though considering how unsettling the glare of their glasses was.

"For how long?" he asked.

"A month, during which we'd like you to get the proper treatment and therapy you need for your masochism," he told William. His eyebrow twitched.

"My masochism? I can assure you that I did not cut myself. It was an accident, the nurse at the Infirmary corrected it."

_Outspoken? So am I..._

_Explosive words that your world_

_Wouldn't understand..._

_Turn away again!_

"Our nurses are not trained to be idiots. She could tell by the angle of your arm's infected laceration that you did this to yourself," the second spoke, "We've dealt with much sorrow in our careers, and painful sights...But this, from one of our most proficient and successful supervisors,"

William's eyebrow twitched, the third one spoke. He was acquainted with the third one, Dylan Henries, the head of the Medical London Division. He was in the same building as the reapers, seeing as being a reaper was sometimes a dangerous craft, and they'd often converse in the break room.

"William, we are demanding you come in for a physical," Dylan told him, "If you're being honest, and I do believe you are trying, you will pass this physical. Just for a few minutes, for a few blood tests,"

"I am not sick!" William asserted, his superiors stood agape. He had obeyed countless times without so much as batting an eyelid. William himself was shocked at what he had done, he had spoken out of turn and out of his own emotions. No, he would not let his deeper side partake this reality now.

_You're beaten? So am I..._

_I've got a heart of stone_

_No medication can cure_

_What's taken hold_

"Do forgive me, my superiors," he bowed his head, "I am simply frustrated. I will go in for these tests as you wish, and I will take the sabbatical if you find anything that manifests sickness within me. But I can assure you, I am quite well and eager to follow your orders once again.

* * *

><p>Grell had not shut the door when he left, he hadn't even left the back porch. He was eavesdropping on William's conversation and how solemn it sounded. It sounded all too somber, and while William was indeed a ghostly character that haunted the halls of the Division with only the goal of fulfilling his purpose, he was not somber. He was full of a still life, a life that was always moving within at all too slow pace. He paused, staring at his gloved hands as if he were holding the answer in his small, delicate palms. He realized now more than ever than William's glasses masked him.<p>

Not literally though despite how the glare concealed his sensually chilling eyes. Oh, how many times Grell had found those piercing arrows stimulating the pleasure centers in his brain. It hadn't been about sex, or release, but the sheer satisfaction of being recognized by William. Now he realized that even that recognition was a mask._  
><em>

_You're hurting? So will I..._

_When I awaken and remember why_

_I've been running from your... World! (world)_

_Dishonored by your world...(world)_

He hated William's way of life, he realized. He hated how devoted William was to work and how unfaithful he was to the red reaper. He hated how unfaithful he was to himself even. He looked down at his hands again, realizing he had taken the medical tools and was staring at the stained reflection of his green eyes. He tossed them into the garbage bin, gripping the sides of the tin contraption and glaring deep into the garbage. His true love had betrayed him! Betrayed him!

William hadn't been honest to Grell in all these years since their exam, had he? Perhaps before they received their special glasses, in the present though his superior had lied to him. His heart wretched, his chest sank...He was going to faint...He fell against the wall and gripping the cement like a rose to the vine. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream! Anything to get the truth out of William for the sake of love!

_Your world! I'm haunted..._

_By your world!_

_My blood is as cold as ice,_

_Or so I have been told_

"Grell Sutcliffe," William's voice shook his eyes, "You've been listening this whole time...And I believe I owe you something,"

"You're damned certain you do!" Grell's voice was somewhere between sadness and anger, "And I demand honestly you scum of shinigami!"

Grell forcefull shoved him into the house, slamming the door behind him. His gaze was icy, too icy even for William. He'd never seen Grell so upset before.

"Grell Sutcliffe," he stood straight, "I demand you stop this indecency."_  
><em>

_Show no emotion_

_And it can destroy your soul_

_Another sacrifice to a tormentor..._

_Your world wouldn't understand..._

"Me?" Grell cried, grabbing his collar, "Stop this indecency! You're the indecent one!"

He shoved him against the wall, teeth gritting against the tears, "You've hurt me, William..."

His tone was softer, he leaned his head against William's right collar bone, murmuring, "Why didn't you tell me you were suffering? Why didn't you turn to me? I'm not Lady Macbeth who urges you to destroy yourself...Oh William...I'd never hurt you, death cannot even bear us part..."

He looked up at him, eyes full of tears. His mascara was dripped off of his pseudo lashes and onto his cheekbones, his eyeliner smudged and slowly crept down his cheek in black rivulets. Each was the kiss of a phantom, a phantom from Grell's ghostly heart that was forever haunted by the image of William.

"What poison did this to you?" he asked softly.

_Turn away again!_

_You're angered, so am I!_

_A thousand fires burn!_

_A land of darkness from which_

William gently took Grell's shoulders into the palms of his hands and clutched them firmly. He then eased Grell off of him and into a decent standing position. He straightened his collar, brushed his hair back and studied Grell thoroughly for a moment. Why was Grell crying over reaped souls? Nothing could be done to change what he had done to himself, and nothing could be done to stop it. Grell often boasted of his love for William, and being as stiff as he was, he hadn't been flexible enough to bend to such a notion.

William could not be loved, he was not born to be loved. He was born to be a drone and nothing more, love was an insignificant ideal to him. Love of the flesh, love of pain, love of lust, and the love of sickening pleasure were all possible to him. He had experienced them all once and all at the same time in his life. This though? The notion that Grell loved him deeply? Just as deep as Christ's lacerations for his children? Just as deep as the Taj Mahal halls and beauty and the very thought put into it.

Was that even possible?

_I cannot return_

_You're aching, so am I..._

_When I awake and discover that_

_I've been damaged by your...World! (world)_

"William," Grell lifted his head and touched William's cheek again (his hand gloved this time,) "I love you..."

"Grell Sutcliffe, that is impossible and also improbable. Not to mention highly unprofessional," William stated, his voice monotonous and sterilized of any and all emotion. He had his eyes closed for a reason he did not know, as if saying such a thing with his eyes open would break his heart. He waited a moment, counting to five, and took a deep breath before he decided to open his eyes. They did not have the chance for a calm, definite opening though as Grell's lips gently grazed William's.

_Dishonored by your world (world)_

_Your world!_

_I'm haunted by world!_

_Never will I be welcomed amongst_

"Grell Sutcliffe!" William pushed him off, "This is highly unprofessional!"

"Is it?" Grell cried, pushing him back against the wall, "You've lied to me all these years! Claiming only finishing your work could satisfy you! Living by your hypocrisy and those damned commandments! Damn you William! Damn you, my Romeo has lain with Rosaline...The embodiment of what he cannot have! You sought pleasure through hurting yourself...!"

He bit his lip, breaking it as he dared speak again, "Instead of sharing that pain with me...Instead of...Consummating that pain...With me..."

Grell shrank back somewhat, "I hate you, William. I hate you and I love you...I hate you for lying to me..."

"I never lied, Grell Sutcliffe, now leave," William spoke calmly.

_The heartless monsters you surround_

_Yourself with...Feeding off the pain_

_And misfortune of others_

_A manical unit of sub-human parasites_

"Are you afraid this won't work out?" Grell's eyes narrowed, "What are you afraid of, William? Are you afraid of being rough?"

He smirked somewhat, twisting a lock of red hair around his finger, "I seemed to recall that you like it rough_..._From the front, behind, side...Every part of my body had not gone unpunished~!"

William's eyebrow twitched, "Leave, now,"

"Did our moment of weakness spark this lust within you?" Grell licked his lips, "If so, may I?"

"May what?" William started, "You may leave by my order, now. I order you to leave now,"

"Oh, ne~ my hand~some man," Grell chuckled_.  
><em>

_Blurred into a feeding frenzy with the smell_

_Of fresh blood_

_Open your eyes and see the creatures_

_For who they are..._

William's eyes widened as Grell produced his chainsaw and revved it up, swinging it at William. Had Grell gone mad? What was he doing? He dodged, grimacing as Grell broke several vases, tore open walls, and smashed furniture in his endeavor to slice William up. The red reaper was grinning manically, crying out his passionate notions at his superior.

"If pain is your consort to you, child of DEATH~!" Grell shrieked manically, "Then Pain will be your only lover!"

Blood hit the walls in a straight line and began to drip like graffiti, the very drops screaming in ecstasy. There was a moment of silence as William processed what had happened. Grell had cut him...Cut him...And it felt _good._ He looked down at his shirt, it had been torn open and his chest was now lacerated. It wasn't fatal, no vital organs were showing or where damaged. It was clean and cut right over his pectoral muscles at a diagonal.

_A swirling mass of hatred and envy_

_Don't be naive enough to think you're_

_Unaffected..._

_The conversion has already begun_

Grell's panting breaths softened and evened out as William fell back onto the floor, staring down at his bloody hands as he tried to stop the bleeding. This hadn't been done properly, he needed to retain pressure on his chest to make sure the blood loss didn't become critical...He fell back, still trapped in the torrent of ecstasy that Grell's scythe had provided to his bosom.

"How does it feel? Hand~some," Grell cooed, sitting down upon William's hips. The brunette did not respond, "And you resorted to doing this to yourself...Silly boy..."

_You're frightened, so am I_

_A world of demons wait!_

_Watching out movements and filling_

_My heart with hate!_

Grell leaned forward and kissed the wound, drawing a pleasured gasp from his superior. Grell smirked and gently slid his tongue into the wound some distance. It wasn't a deep wound, it didn't hit the bone, but that didn't mean it was shallow either. Grell licked up the blood and teased the tender flesh, relishing in William's whimpers and groans of pleasure. William's blood tasted so sinful and so pure at the same time, he wondered what the rest of him tasted like.

"I can give you pleasure too, my love," he smirked, "Pleasure that only the devils can experience. Then again,"

Grell bit the wound somewhat, drawing a ecstatic spasm to erupt from the form beneath him, "Devils, aren't we all?"

_You're burning, so will I..._

_When I awake and discover how I've been_

_Ravaged by your...World! (world)_

_Dishonored by your world! (world)_

Grell slid down William's body, streaks of blood and bites in the reaper's wake as he trailed William's abdomen. He suckled upon the scarred flesh until it was chaffed, until the bleeding stopped, and when he noted a jab against his thigh he realized William was sexually aroused. He smirked...Indeed, he would give William pleasure...

_(Dishonored by your world)_

_Your world!_

_I'm haunted your world!_


	5. Chapter 5

Lilith Immaculate-Cradle of Filth

* * *

><p><em>Domination<em>, it was something William was quite intimate with. Of course, he was only dominated by his desires while he, in turn, dominated every single employee at his firm with his rank and intelligence. Such a rare ability to dominate often derived in self-satisfaction and pleasure. At the moment, however, he began to realize he was dominated by his own addiction...And how it was backfiring on him. Grell's menacingly beautiful eyes razed like the lightening from the night before. The green orbs were exceeding superficial; they were the icy-yet somehow steaming-pools of his addiction incarnate. Those eyes were ready to manifest their true power in the form of Grell's body...

He was still panting, still in a state of euphoria from the gash across his chest._ Oh god..._The gripped the carpet_...The pleasure...The pain..._

_Church bells resounded like judgement day_  
><em>As they were making love <em>  
><em>In the rainswept graveyard<em>  
><em>She fucked him hard, silhouetted by flame<em>  
><em>A monsoon Tigress set upon prey<em>

Grell's hands were just as sharp and slick as his eyes, exploring William's body in a excruciating gentleness only the scalpels had provided him. Not once though did his sharp, red nails break the skin. They were searching for a tender area, anything romantically intriguing-anything that could register a relatively humane pleasure. Grell pouted, noting how the touches to William's abdomen did little to arouse any dual condition; pain and pleasure were William's vow to being a reaper. Was there nothing of sensual, perfectly _natural_ pleasure? He traced his naval, humming softly before proceeding to the hem of his pants.

"Oh William," he purred, tracing the crotch of his pants with his fingers, "If I knew it was this easy to arouse you, I would've given you babies a long time ago,"

He began to tug at the fabric, licking his lips eagerly as his own arousal fought the bindings of his trousers.

Grell smirked wickedly.

_Fall for the love of me_  
><em>Crawl for the love of me<em>  
><em>Drool for the love of my virulent sway<em>  
><em>I grow more master the faster the days<em>

William hissed and grabbed Grell's hands, eyes filled with rage as he sat up. Without another thought he took Grell and threw him against the wall. The red-head cried out in sickeningly pleasured way, wriggling sensually as he hit the floor, "Oh, do be gentle, Will~iam! This isn't your bedroom!"

The brunette glared, standing and wiping the excess blood from his chest, "You think you could handle this? You're not even fit enough to be a reaper, nevertheless the source of my own deeper reveries,"

He grabbed Grell by his hair, dragging him along, "We'll just see about that, Grell Sutcliffe. If you're so adamant about giving me pleasure, then so be it. And after this night I expect you to understand we can never happen,"

_Lilith Immaculate_

* * *

><p>Grell was his main focus...<p>

_This delectable reaper_  
><em>Her eyes were profound<em>  
><em>Drawing him in deeper<em>  
><em>Until he was drowned<em>  
><em>Hurled on the shore <em>  
><em>Of the world underground<em>

Grell whimpered somewhat as he sat on his knees, the floor beneath him was cold and hard. William had tied him up to the base of his bed, the leather of the belts William had used to tie him down were also digging into his wrists. William had left the room some bit ago (to clean out his new injuries most likely.)

_Lilith Immaculate_

"William!" he called, whining somewhat, "What are you doing?...Please, I feel so lonely without..."

_Mortal kind, a morbid wine_  
><em>For this dark moon goddess<em>  
><em>And freed to stretch her claws<em>  
><em>This beautiful whore<em>  
><em>Would be brutally honest<em>

"Grell Sucliffe," William walked out of the bathroom, dressed as if he was going to work. His hair was sleeked back, his hands gloved, and his trousers secured to their usual wrap (seeing that he was no longer aroused.)

"Will~iam!" he whined, "Untie me! I know we're at a stand still here but this ridiculous! I wanna hold you and hug you!~"

He struggled against the bindings. Despite the leather they did not stretch enough for him to jerk his wrists free from the legs of the bed. He made a frustrated noise, so wrapped up in his freedom so he could embrace his beloved. However, he did notice what William was approaching him with.

_Tortuous one, taboos undone_  
><em>A glittering star on a sea of myriad waves<em>  
><em>And a thickening mist, a seductress<em>  
><em>Leading lovesick hearts astray<em>

"Grell Sutcliffe, do you see what I am holding in my hand?" he asked. William made a guttural noise and looked up, eyes widening somewhat at what William was holding. He was holding an instrument long ago banned from the Division. It had been often used to discipline unruly reapers...Just about the time he and William became reapers to be exact. They had been thrown out, or given away to a leather-smith to make clothes. They never were given the details. Reapers were not ones to waste. Even Grell made use of his old clothes and other possessions by turning them into something of current value. Old sheets could become good material for dresses, or old jewelry could become beads...And it was obvious William wasn't wasting that leather instrument at all.

"I-It's a tool used for flogging..." Grell whimpered somewhat.

"Very good. They were banned quite a while ago, despite how humanely they were crafted," William slid one of the leather straps between his fingers. Indeed, they were quite human. There were no shards of steel, or born, or other objects entangled in the cords. Often times they were made with such sharp objects to dig into the victim's skin. It's sometimes rip out whole sections of skin and cause their vital organs to rip out of their stomachs, resulting in death. _  
><em>

_Lilith Immaculate_

"Do you know why I removed your jacket, vest, and shirt?" William asked. _  
><em>

_In the throes of orgasm, she bucked and he broke_  
><em>At the height of the storm, the chaos they'd smote<em>  
><em>Burning behind her in arabesque smoke<em>  
><em>Framed a vision transformed as she sucked from his throat<em>

Grell swallowed, he didn't know what to feel. He felt exceedingly apprehensive, the skin around his face and abdomen tightened considerably in goosebumps. He felt afraid and he knew it was wrong to be afraid...Afraid of William. Whatever his superior was planning he wanted to enjoy, he wanted to take pride in the fact that he was going to share his masochism with him. He knew he couldn't though...It wasn't out of love. It was out of spite. He began to feel ashamed, humiliated-yet somehow the deceit he felt was mended.

At last William was going to share a sacred part of his life with him. He bit he tongue, lavishing in the taste of his blood. He pretended it was William's, pretended a part of William would be inside of him during the torture he knew he was going to be put through. He would be filled with the pain William's felt externally to feel the pleasure he felt internally with each lash's penetration deeper and deeper into his flesh. He wanted that, he wanted to be redeemed by such a harsh hand. He wanted his blood to stain William's bed! That stench would never leave, he was powerful suddenly...He felt so alive and braced himself for a pain greater than the ache in his heart. The pain of reluctant release...

_Victoria smiled, her now golden eyes_  
><em>Possessed a regal bearing<em>  
><em>Of omnipotent power<em>  
><em>From wet lips to her smouldering thighs<em>  
><em>Her beauty perfected and her will agonised<em>

"I've not once used this on myself," William started, "I've always picture it to be a messy practice. Blood would splatter everywhere and take quite a while for me to clean it up. I've often used scalpels, needles, knives, blades, and even my own scythe to feel completion for the work I've done. But now that I have a willing volunteer, I'll see if it is as messy as I had been led to believe,"_  
><em>

_Fall for the love of me_  
><em>Crawl for the love of me<em>  
><em>Drool for the love of my virulent sway<em>  
><em>I grow more the master the faster the days<em>

The first strike barely hurt, Grell bit his lip. It was a shock, no doubt, and it did hurt. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be though...At least not until the next strike. He released a whimper this time, a jolt of ache bolted through his spinal cord and into his head. He arched his head back, only to have his head brutally kicked down by his superior. His forehead hit the ground, the skin tore...Blood filled his eyes from the tear on his forehead. He choked and gasped-inhaling blood. He spat it up, coughed it up. He began screaming (in his throat) as the leather hit him deeper._  
><em>

_Lilith Immaculate_

"Will..." he rasped, "I...I love you..."_  
><em>

_With dread single purpose_  
><em>Her mind told him stay<em>  
><em>She strode through the fire<em>  
><em>Desire aflame<em>  
><em>She murdered the nuns<em>  
><em>In such horrible ways...<em>

William growled, striking Grell's backside harsher and harsher to the point blood began to sprint up at his face and clothes. He hated this, he hated hurting other people and he hated being the cause of this. It did not provide any pleasure, and it was often senseless. Why couldn't he stop though? He was blind to his actions and yet he could see what he was doing. He wasn't in his body but he trapped in the adrenaline rush of what he was doing, he was trapped in his rage and his anger...He was a demon, he was full of sin and full of the pleasure he was deriving from this act.

No, he bit his lip...This wasn't pleasure, he realized. _  
><em>

_Lilith Immaculate_

It was sadism!...His entire reign of guilty pleasure was nothing but sadism. He hated himself more than any demon, he hated what he did more than anyone else. He hated being a drone, he hated how much he loved the feel of pain, and he hated what he was doing. Why was he doing it though? He couldn't even remember what have driven him to do this? His eyes were red with fury...Wait, his eyes? How could they be red when they were covered by his special glasses? He licked his lips, he tasted blood...Grell's blood.

_"That night we lay entwined on hay_  
><em>Inside a soldier's barn<em>  
><em>Her panting breath an opiate<em>  
><em>As in her bolder grasp<em>  
><em>I caught the scent of desert sands<em>  
><em>The Holy lands, the fall of reason<em>  
><em>But only when I smelt the blood<em>  
><em>Did I fear her colder hand"<em>

He seized his hand, the leather straps swaying back and forth as his now widen eyes beheld what he had done. He stepped back, Grell was still alive and that he was grateful for. The state of his being though was not favorable at all. His back had been dug into by the leather, by William's love of pain. He had become a sadist and Grell's back was a portrait of that_. _The fine graffiti streaks of red and pink laid elegantly against Grell's white skin and molded together like candle wax at the bottom of its holding slot on a candelabra. It was an enlightening sight, brighter than the moon (the time of its rising often signaled William it was safe to lift his blade to his arm.)

He had defiled Grell forcefully...He had made him a lover of pain through the most dehumanizing act of all. _  
><em>

_"I am darkness, I am sin_  
><em>The Queen of lust invited in<em>  
><em>Reborn at last to cast my<em>  
><em>Fecund shadow on this world<em>  
><em>You shall worship me, enslaved<em>  
><em>For many lovers shall I crave<em>  
><em>And in return, I'll gladly pave<em>  
><em>Your psycho path with pearls<em>

William had avenged the return of his humanity long ago by delving knives and scalpels into his skin. He had become aroused from that pain, pleasured himself to that pain, and lost his virginity (though not in a literal sense) to that sole pleasure. For years he knew only that pleasure...Now he realized he had only loved it so because it deflected his focus from realizing how much he hated himself. He hated himself for who he was, what he was...Why he was here and why he did what he did. He had become a lover to the rose's thorns, thrown himself into the patch, and hung himself in the name of that love.

He had become gravid with masochistic sadism and fury...He relished in that blind rage._  
><em>

_For I have been grating_  
><em>And waiting so long to find<em>  
><em>The most perfect hostess close to me<em>  
><em>Whose thin-ice troubled mind<em>  
><em>Was like a cracked, black ornate mirror<em>  
><em>To slip right through in time<em>  
><em>When at last I wore Harmonia's necklace<em>  
><em>The cursed twin serpents mine"<em>

He had allowed himself to become debauched_..._And he had debauched Grell. He fell to his knees and quickly undid the binds, Grell's chest was heaving and his face was covered in blood. The gash to his forehead wasn't serious and didn't seem so large that it would leave any scaring. The blood in Grell's mouth worried him. He was panicking, his heart was racing...He opened Grell's mouth. He had swallowed all the blood and whatever was left over was on the ground. He reached his fingers in and pulled Grell's tongue out, he had bitten his tongue in half. This would take only a few days for a reaper to heal. William would have to act fast and stitch the severed flesh together.

Grell looked up at him with red eyes, bloody tears forming in the edges and running down his pale cheeks, "Ahh..."

"Don't speak, your tongue has been severed in half," William told him.

_Tortuous one, debauchery won_  
><em>The attention of Emperors, Princes and Tsars<em>  
><em>For the toll of her kiss, no soul could dismiss<em>  
><em>The advance of her throne from afar<em>

Grell smiled somewhat as William sat him up and positioned him against the board of the bed. Then, from under the bed, he retrieved a first aid. He opened it and removed two rolls of gauze and a jar of hydrogen peroxide. He loaded the cotton ball up and began to scrub the wounds on Grell's back. The red-head gripped the top of the board in pain...Tears at the edge of his eyes. He wanted to tell William that he was happy, that he didn't mind how much pain he was in...How much he dreaded the fact his beautiful skin would scar. All that mattered is that his superior was showing him something other than annoyance and apathy. William never knew this about Grell but the red-head had a terrible self-esteem.

He was packed with energy that his skin was illuminated, and Grell worked so hard to stay beautiful. He couldn't count how many pounds he had spent on cosmetics and herbal remedies to keep himself fresh. A dab of perfume, a few scrubs later, and a pat of mineral based make-ups (as a lady he had to remain an embodiment of nature's innate duality,) any shade of red lipstick, and he was ready to go. He only hoped his love could see him as beautiful as he naturally was.

And indeed, William began to see that.

_This English rose with traits of those_  
><em>Who graced the harems of the East<em>  
><em>Adorned with thorns, she raised the horns<em>  
><em>And scarlet hems to wasted priests<em>

The brunette found himself slowly becoming enamored with Grell's skin...The skin around the whipping stripes that was so white and smooth. He only felt through the silk of his gloves and felt a desire grow to even more familiar to that flesh. He licked his lips and took a deep breath, he wouldn't allow this. He couldn't allow himself to fall to another mistress. For years he had been at his knees, panting and climaxing and crawling for the sake of his lover. That mortification felt so horrible now-seeing it embedded in Grell's skin.

This was an act of spite, not an act of beauty or release...Or a sacrifice for what he had been bred to do. Both he an Grell, born alike to demons and born descendants of Cameron, both baptized in the Archeron, had been haunted by the souls their infant bodies had been cleansed of. Something in his chest was not only fascinated by Grell's flesh, but upset by it as well. The emotion of that river was starting to drown him. _  
><em>

_Fall for the love of me_  
><em>Crawl for the love of me<em>  
><em>Drool for the love of my virulent sway<em>  
><em>I grow more master the faster the days<em>

He pondered absentmindedly what it'd be like to be inside Grell's skin-to give love away so willingly and with no thought at all. He wondered if Grell perceived any pleasure from such an act at all. The inferior shinigami lived in a world of his own fairytales. Each one unfinished_-_to Grell's distaste-and yearned to be completed by means of not only flesh but the erotic passion to unite that flesh into a faithful bond that not even death could break. _  
><em>

_Lilith Immaculate_

During the moments two lovers embraced-William thought this over as he wrapped Grell's abdomen in gauze-were they bound to one another? He had seen many men (men Grell considered Cavaliers and he considered Grell quite a Cavalier himself_) _seduce a woman with promises of romance. In the end they always left, off to seduce a younger, more naive mate. How high was such a pleasure? To connect with a person in such a way? Had Grell ever engaged in such a carnal affair? But this pleasure bore many faces; lust, defilement, disease_, _and distortion. It was just like pain. Pain was used for torture, pleasure, discipline, and also disguised as enjoyment (which was entirely different from his masochism.)

Grell, being the autumn, portrayed all these qualities of lovemaking and pain. His heart was full of lust that longed to be defiled by the demon he enamored himself with. Autumn was enamored with death, and cheated on it with rebirth. It was a defiling sort of love-love that often brought one to the end of themself. Demons were bred into the seven deadly sins and thus contaminated their offspring with it. Love was a disease as well, and certainly made many suffer heartache that sometimes led to suicide. Grell was already dead but he had put himself to the edge of an immortal sleep trying to acheive said love. The way he acted distorted it; it was too devoted, too deep...To...Unbelievable!_  
><em>

_This delectable reaper_  
><em>Her eyes were profound<em>  
><em>They drew him in deeper<em>  
><em>Until he was drowned<em>  
><em>Hurled on the shore<em>  
><em>Of the world underground...<em>

Pain was not much different at all. Pain tortured any being to the brink of death, just as love did. Romeo and Juliet were the perfect example of this world. (This world he was, strangely enough, started to feel more and more attacked to.) Juliet killed herself for the sake of her love, as did Romeo for his love. They could not bear to part in life so, rather than be tortured by unending loneliness daunted by their passion, they parted together in death. Their love stunk the river Styx-even in death they survived as a single, rotting essence. Corpses embracing for all eternity. Truly to rot into one another was the deepest form of lovemaking. He sighed, pushing his blood soaked glasses up, that was their pleasure though. However deep the pain crept they found pleasure and solace in knowing they'd be mated forever in the afterlife. They were born for each other and couldn't live without each other. _  
><em>

_Lilith Immaculate_

Discipline? William had never been disciplined by means of pain despite how often he fell before it and begged for mercy_. _That mercy led to being suffocated by the red ribbons of his wrists, chest, and other limbs. How deep that mercy was, but he hadn't been disciplined at the firm by the use of pain or by any means. He had disciplined Grell though by the means of pain. Unlike what he had just done, he had been obliged to hit Grell once in a while for misconduct. It hadn't been harsh, it was merely his job. It seemed to bring Grell joy, just like a mother in labor. Whereas it could kill a woman to give birth (just as his mother died to give him life) she would rejoice in knowing her baby was alive.

William now understood whenever he'd hit Grell he'd give the red-head attention. He sighed again, wiping his glasses clean, at least it hadn't been so painful for Grell. _  
><em>

_Fall for the love of me_  
><em>Crawl for the love of me<em>  
><em>Drool for the love of my virulent sway<em>  
><em>I grow more master the faster the days<em>

Something was wrong though with his list, what else was pain used for? For humans, most of the time, it was a system of alert. Nerves throughout their body were signaled when the flesh came in contact with an unpleasant object or action.

_Lilith Immaculate_

Pain was not always about being alarmed, being disciplined, tortured, or pleasured by the mere sensation of it. It was about being human-about having the ability to know that with pain there could be joy. Without pain there could be no joy, no pleasure...No physical love. William then realized he had not only done this out of spite...He had done to fight back that he desired to be human. _  
><em>

_The flutes and sweet wine_  
><em>Of her voice anodyne<em>  
><em>Her power was growing<em>  
><em>Every hour malign<em>  
><em>The truth, Lilith's kingdom<em>  
><em>Drew closer with time<em>


	6. Chapter 6

Call Me When You're Sober-Evanescence

Oh, and for those of you who are kinda confused on how the last song fit in with the message of the last chapter...I was kinda go something toward Grell. Like, the details of Grell and the hidden secrets of their love and impending romance...I like that kinda foreshadowing. :) So yeh...Prophetic

Not to mention it also had to do with William's latest mistress; Pain (Lilith Immaculate). Lilith was Adam's first love but when he demanded she lie beneath him during sex she left and became a demon. Thus, William's life, though his first love, has become a domineering demon. :) Of course, that "delectable reaper" part was all for Grell, he brings William to the end of his rage and apathy. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy. I mean, c'mon! "This delectable reaper, her eyes were profound. That drew him in deeper until he drowned, hauled ashore the world underground!" XD

And the "English rose" bit...a lot of it correlates to Grell while some of it toward Pain, but also Grell's low esteem issues, which we will go further into later. And others are toward William himself, like with the Emperor and "scarlet hems to fall priests" bit...Yeh. Dontcha love Cradle of Filth? XD! They're the best, besides Disturbed. Disturbed in #1 in my heart! Their song "Get Down With the Sickness" is the first song I remember hearing.

As for this chapter, I was going to put in Katie Perry's E.T but I was like, not yet! I am a heavy-metal person but there are only a few pop singers I actually like. Hell, you might be Lady Gaga's Bad Romance show up in this!~ XD Hell, I was the Lady Gaga of my school, of course I love her! XD

Anyhow, please read and review, tell me which parts you like, what I could improve upon, some critique maybe. Or, just be supportive!

Oh, and also...While watching the William OVA did anyone else grab the screen and scream and moan and chant every time William spoke or appeared on the screen in adoration? 'Cause I did...O_O...Just...Like...Grell...Hell, I even dyed my hair like Grell's and wear make-up like him and extensions. XD! Must have William's babies!~

Enjoy! ;)

* * *

><p>If anything, William knew how quickly Grell healed. It was an astounding gift, most reapers didn't possess such energy. Grell was full of energy and how many times William wished he'd use it toward his work rather than play. At the moment though he was relieved to see that Grell's back and torn forehead were completely healed by morning. His tongue would still take more time though. It was a sensory organ, and quite tender, it was no surprise to him. Thus, to shroud both their escapades, he called the office and informed them that Grell Sutcliffe was helping him during his sabbatical with his current health issue; the infection of course. They seemed somewhat bewildered but told them they'd get a replacement for the day.<p>

He allowed Grell to rest in his bed, seeing as it wasn't his _own_ fault he was in such a condition. William was going to responsible about this and take care of Grell until he was better.

_Don't cry to me_

_If you loved me_

_You would here with me_

_You want me?  
><em>

The idea of mutilating himself again though had all but disappeared from his mind. He noted Grell's chainsaw in the living room but felt no need to slice his flesh all of a sudden. He picked it up, studied it, and noted that it was stained with his blood. He'd make Grell clean it when he was healed, for now he'd hide it so the _red-head_ couldn't do anything reckless. As he locked it away in the safe in his basement (where he kept some of his more...extensive...tools of pleasure) he felt something twist and tear in his heart. He turned back to the safe and grasped the edges, his heart racing, his eyes clenching shut.

He needed a fix while at the same time his body felt no need for it all.

_Come find me?_

_Make up your mind!_

_Should've let you fall_

_Lose it all  
><em>

He turned to the stairs and left the basement, some of his most painful practices had been down down here. The stench of blood and release still stung the air despite how many times he had scrubbed the floors, walls, and other furniture down. He still remembered how chaffed his hands had become, so dry to the point they bled. Pain was calling him back to her embrace. She wrapped her arms around his stiff shoulders, kissed his achingly silent throat, and whispered sweet psalms in his ear.

_Use the chainsaw..._she urged, her voice light and delicate like a seaborne siren. He shook her off, she and her vast kingdom of untouchable water held no value to him. He wanted to believe that at least, the sea could not be drank from and anyone who did so would surely die a death full of apparitions. They no longer functioned without the pure water of the sky and masses within dry land. He was thirsty for his own blood and pleasure but he would no longer partake of death's bed.

Temptation was her scent and it did not take the form of stench his body gave off during climax. It was a scent with a form, much like smoke.

_Then maybe one day_

_You can remember yourself_

_Can't keep believing_

_We're only deceiving ourselves  
><em>

He locked the basement door and shoved the key under the door...Damn, now he'd have to pick lock it to get Grell's chainsaw out of the basement. He sighed and rubbed his temples, he wanted to check on Grell. He'd given Grell some iced coffee to best ease the pain in his tongue, and gave him a soft breakfast seeing as any vigorous chewing could reopen the stitches William had taken the pleasure of using to sew his tongue together.

"uuHH!" Grell cooed, smiling sinisterly as William entered the room.

"Don't speak," he ordered gently, turning to his dresser and removing his gloves (they were still stained with blood from last night and it seemed he'd need a new pair.) As he reached down to the second drawer he found it was stuck and needed a bit of a shaking to loosen the hinges. In so doing his elbow hit the coat rack in his room and toppled over. It fell like a corpse drained of all life, like he had done so many times before.

_And I'm sick of the lie  
><em>

_And you're too late_

_Don't cry to me_

_If you loved me  
><em>

He knelt over to pick the rack up and reorganize the fallen coats, one of which was Grell's. He stretched his arm to pick it up when Grell jumped up from the bed and snatched it from his hand, snarling at him somewhat. The brunette was puzzled for a moment before he noted the small book that had fallen out of the jacket's interior pocket. Grell whimpered gutturally as William picked the book up and studied it. He blinked and fixed his glasses to double check what he was reading was completely accurate.

"The Bible?" William was indeed shocked, "Grell Sutcliffe, you know very well our species is not religious. We know of our higher power and of our darker forces. What use do you have of worship when you have no soul?"

He stroked the leather of the holy text, "Is it because of the red binding? I know you adore the color but to bring a Bible into the Shinigami Dispatch Society...That is highly prohibited...What enjoyment do you..."

_You would be here with me_

_You want me?  
><em>

_Come find me!  
><em>

_Make up your mind!  
><em>

He paused, realizing instantly what right did he have to tell Grell what he could and couldn't enjoy? He grimaced, "Nevermind. I'll forget about this considering the circumstances,"

He gathered the fallen coats in one arm and stood, giving Grell his book back as he stood. Like a bookshelf, he organized the coats by the first letter. It was all by what brand they were made of, and if he couldn't find the brand than by color. Everything was completely organized, easy to find and with no struggle or depth to its meaning. He didn't want to turn back to look at Grell's face when he finished arranging the coats. He couldn't stand to see his face, something about his perfect white face made his heart wretch. He wasn't disgusted, no, this was the most little hate he had felt in years mixed in with his apathetic expression. He wanted to express himself, he wanted to accept that expression yet he could not. Expression only came through blood and pain, the one habitual practice he could expressive deeper, carnal, and spiritual longings. The perfect organization of suffering and dedication just as Grell's very countenance was.

He needed to write this out in red ink and a scalpel would be the perfect quill. His pains would fly away into the air as invisible noises. They'd hold form and energy, and vibrate from the tools' radioactive gleam against the somber light of his basement. It was tempting but he would not take this.

_Couldn't take the blame_

_Sick with shame_

_Must be exhausting _

_To lose your own game_

He wanted to stop hating himself. He hid back a snicker, he knew this was the first time he'd actually dealt with his emotions. Every emotion was painful, they hurt deeper than when he'd thrust needles and knives into his flesh. He could still feel the minuscule puts they left in his bones. They were imprinted in his marrows and his blood carried the disease. This hateful practice was part of him. At least the cut would be clean though and would heal, emotions lingered forever and were often incestuous in the sense they could blend and cause destructive behavior. Just as if they were inbred over generations of inter-breeding the same bloodlines, his emotions were too crossed to ever experience variety. He suffered bodily and mental changes due to this and all were manifested by his reflection.

Grell frowned somewhat as he watched William struggle emotionally. He didn't need to see his face to know that, he could feel it. His entire body ached as William's heart did, so wishing his light, dizzy chest could be ripped open and his heart replaced with Williams and vice versa. Perhaps then William would know true pleasure through purifying sin than violence?

_Selfishly hated_

_No wonder you're jaded!_

_You can't play the victim_

_This time!_

He gently touched William's shoulder, rubbing through the fabric to his shoulder. When his love did not shake his hand off or cast him a disgusted glare he took slow, easy steps toward him. He was so close, he realized, he could feel William's body heat. He was hesitant at first but gently rested his head on William's shoulder, rubbing up and down his arm in a solacing manner. The red-head cooed and smiled, relieved to hear William's heartbeat. It was anything but calm though, it was slow and yet it was fast. His heart was reacting to himself, not Grell. Oh, how Grell wished he could speak if not for the pain in his mouth!

Oh, but how lovely that heart did beat though. He nuzzled his shoulder with his cheek, blushing as he imagined that heartbeat becoming one with his own. For beings that did not breath their hearts were certainly ablaze with life. Each heart was a plethora of life and emotion, and memory. Even false memories, oh, how many times Grell tricked himself that his fantasies of lovemaking were real. How many times he imagined himself being made love to by William.

_And you're too late!_

_So don't cry to me_

_If you loved me_

_You would be here with me_

He had come late though, yet he somehow still held onto this fantastic allusion with all of his integrity. He could now see that scarred form above him, a work of flesh that was influenced more by the soul than any other creature. A man with nothing but bitterness toward himself whose cold gaze shot Grell's vulnerable form so hard he was hollow. He was full of William and the sevens sins of purity. It was in a fit of cannibalistic sadism William had done this. Humans were not meant to eat humans, yet, little by little, they did in the sense of dehumanization. Animals used pain to convey dominance and even chewed their own limbs off to escape traps. William had done this to survive, to feel that he was alive and human. Just as Grell has forced himself to believe those nights were soon ahead...Just to see William happy once in his life.

"Do you need something, Grell Sutcliffe?" William asked, his eyes snipping away the tenderness he felt. It felt horrible and rotten in his bowels, he didn't know how to deal with _it._

_You want me?_

_Come find me?_

_Make up your mind!_

_You'll never call me_

William faced Grell, pulling him from his introspection and the spot his head had on his shoulder. The expression on Grell's face was almost insufferable, a red stage of emotions set itself onto Grell's cheek. A fine, shy smile was on Grell's thin lips, and his eyes were glazed with a sort of reflection that William did not identify with. Grell bit his lip teasingly, those pearly razors mocking William, and the red-head gently tugged on William's lapels. Once again the superior shinigami did not move...He was entranced by how beautiful Grell looked even without his make-up. The red reaper grew bolder and slid his hand inside the fine, wool jacket. He traced the bandages over William's chest, staring into his eyes as he did so. Every hollow between his ribs and collarbones told a story of deformation. Oh! Grell was thrown into an amorous frenzy of heat-filled emotions and false realities of how many times William had contracted and expanded the muscles within those hollows. Oh, the stories those muscles could tell!

William grabbed his hand; flesh on emotion. It was pumping through Grell's veins which were widening and causing his ivory skin to blush all over, "What...What conduct is this?"

His heartbeat was in his hand...

_When you're sober_

_You only want it 'cause it's over_

_'Cause it's over_

_How could I have burn paradise?'_

Grell winked at him, the hollows of his eyes accentuated by the blush of his skin. He moved closer to William, the hollows of his face growing deeper and deeper as if the inferior reaper was becoming a monster. His eyes were on the razors of his mouth though as his mouth opened...The monster Grell was? No, the beauty Grell was. His skin was white like corpse's yet it was soft and smooth, and held a lovely essence of perfume. His body was firm and muscular from exercise yet still retained the strange structure of his bones which made his hips and chest arch out to that of a female's. His hair that was so long and annoying was also very beautiful. It was red, the color of blood, and acted like a waterfall that baptized his striped back. He was so cleansed of his mortal soul, of his vice and his commandments. He was a perfect example of grace; a glass stained statue on rotting, hollowed dirt.

_How could I?_

_You were never mine!_

_So don't cry to me!_

_If you loved me_

Grell kissed him just as he did the day before, his white eyelids giving William the sense he was an asylum as all he did was stare. He was trapped in his own reality, his own sanity. It wasn't the reality or his sanity that was blackened, it was his was of being. So then when he closed his eyes he knew he was starting to dig his way out.

_You would be here with me_

_Don't lie to me_

_Just get your things_

_I've made up you mind..._


	7. Chapter 7

Gorgeous Nightmare-Escape the Fate_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>"Behold the Eye of the Lord is upon them<em>

_That fear... Upon them, lets hope at His mercy_

_To deliver their soul from death_

_And keep them alive in famine..."_

When Grell kissed him he didn't know why he didn't pull away. He should've said it was unprofessional, that it was against the rules, that he was not interested but something about Grell's flesh began to intrigue him. He wasn't aroused, he was curious. He had always been the one in class to transcend the boundaries, especially during verification. He wanted to know all their was about human life; he wanted to feel and understand its significance. He wanted to understand how pure humanity could be tainted and also how he was unable to purify himself even with reaping.

Something about Grell's lips fell to just above that transcendence. He did not feel the urge to do damage to Grell, or himself. Any damage he wanted to do twisted and circumvented itself into his growing curiosity.

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

Grell almost screamed as William grabbed the back of his thighs and picked him up. He wrapped his slender, trim legs around William's waist, mewling and moaning as pressed his lips harder against his superior's. William turned around and sat him down on his dresser, rubbing his hands all over Grell's spine and shoulders as he participated in the kiss. Grell was a surprisingly good kisser, swiveling his head and joining their lips in different positions. Shockingly, he didn't push his tongue into William's mouth and was shocked when his superior did so. Grell wrapped his tongue around William's, only to be thwarted as the brunette's tongue lapped at Grell's teeth.

The red-head gagged somewhat, whining and pushing William away, panting. He forced himself to speak, despite the pain in his tongue, "Slow...down,"

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

William took Grell's face into his hands, "There is so much I never knew about you, Grell Sutcliffe. As your superior, I am permitted to explore these aspects,"

With that he smashed his lips onto Grell's again, almost slamming him against the mirror. Grell whined and whimpered as William's blood filled his mouth. He wanted this, yes, he wanted to be kissed passionately by William. Not like this though, not to support his superior's lust for physical pain. He tried pushing him away again, only to have that attempt thwarted as William wrapped his arms around Grell's waist and back, almost suffocating him. He gasped, coughing up William's blood as his superior moved to his neck. His breath was fast and full of heat. A beastly purring was vibrating in the air and all of it from the brunette's stomach.

"Grell Sutcliffe," he placed him on the bed, "Have you ever experienced physical love? And I expect an honest answer,"

"Oh...Wil..." Grell started blushing, perhaps he hadn't been a tool for pain, "I-I can't...lie..."

_Choose your fate_

_Do as you desire..._

_Choose your fate_

_Choose your fate_

"Then tell me," William ordered.

"Oh Will~..." he folded his hands as if in prayer, smiling dreamily as his painful tongue was forced to dictate, "I may seem like an easy catch...But a lady's heart belongs to her beau...I've never been unfaithful to you...Even in death our love is in Purgatory...Burning until we enter Heaven,"

William seemed satisfied, "Remove your clothes, and the bandages as well,"

"Now?" Grell asked, his words beginning to slur due to the pain in his tongue, "No dinner? No romance?"

"Now Grell Sutcliffe," he ordered firmly, "If not, I will do so myself and I won't be using my hands,"

Grell gulped, shaking in apprehension, delight, and trepidation as he slowly but surely began to undress. His superior watched him like a hawk, not once blinking as he gently slid the silk of robe William had given him, or the linen of the bandages.

"And the undergarments too," his superior added.

_"And deliver them in through the fear of death,"_

_Choose your fate_

_(Choose your fate)_

_(Choose your fate)_

Grell released an unsteady breath, allowing his hard to cover his naked form as the last of his coverings had fallen to the floor. He never found himself attractive despite how hard he tried to be attractive. He worked his body to the thin, white line...His skin was pale and well-tended to, like porcelain that had been freshly dusted. His high cheekbones gave his face an elegant, Grecian look. He looked up at William, feeling like Medusa caught in the gaze of Poseidon. He was going to be ravaged-his beauty so rare...The beauty and virginity that no one man could have and thus in the masculine eye he would take what he desired. Grell had driven his love into a psychopathic frenzy of lust...He would be hurt again.

The pain in his tongue had not dwindled at all, he couldn't believe he had said what he just did. He locked his jaw as William sat down next to him."

_"Through all their lifetime subject to bondage..."_

_I've got another confession to make_

_So complicated let me try to explain_

_Don't want this feeling to go away_

His superior lifted a hand and gently touched Grell's shoulder, furrowing his brow somewhat as his bare skin caressed the flesh. Since Grell's back had healed completely he let his hand wander down his spine. It was especially prominent, as were a few of his ribs. He leaned closer to Grell, grabbing his wrists which were against his chest, "You put a lot of effort into your appearance. Perhaps if you cut that time you'd finish your paperwork on time,"

"Ahhh..." Grell made to speak when William pushed two fingers into his mouth. Grell gagged, gasping as his fingers hit the back of throat. He would've thrown up had they remained any longer.

"Don't speak, just breath..." William's lips brushed against his earlobe, "...And blush, that's an order,"

_So it stays, it stays, it stays, it stays_

_Is it the way that you talk_

_That's causing me to freak?_

_Is it the way you laugh_

Grell shivered as William ran his fingers through his hair, examining each strand with precision. He felt an urge fill his stomach to examine every imperfect aspect of Grell's beauty. Each strand was full of red and held an eerie scent of blood mixed with opium perfume. The red reaper obviously put a lot of care into his tresses. Each tress smelled like opium mixed with coconut, thin blood, and pomegrantes. He took Grell's head in his hand pulled the top of head closer, taking the scent of his hair deep into his lungs, "You've very beautiful hair, Grell Sutcliffe...Very appealing in color and texture,"

Grell blushed, oh...William was so tortuous! One moment he was staring at him with those menacing eyes, violating his body with his cold fingers and then acting like a sensual prince! Oh, he felt himself growing aroused and sick at the same time! He wanted to be infected with the malevolent passion subdued by his superior's professional boundaries. What he wanted Grell would give...Even against his will, and oh how he'd relish in that humiliation! As long as it was by William's hand alone, only William and him in his entirety. Good and evil...

_That's making my heart beat?_

_Is it the way that you kiss?_

_It's gotta be the way you taste,_

_You taste_

William's focus turned to Grell's skin, he already knew the endurance of his flesh by the flogging his back had undergone. His back was beautiful and white, the red of his hair mimicking the disgusting pleasure _that_ recollection brought him. He brushed his hair back, the silk of it felt like fresh blood running between the webbing of his fingers, so his front was entirely revealed. His flesh was the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins brought back from Satan and presented to the angel, Lucifer. Every shadow, hollow, shade, pore, and scratch was the white light of sin brought together into the cleansing blood of Christ's body. He swallowed; Lust, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, Pride, Envy, and Vanity.

Lust, the first sin that both were acquainted with. William held an undying lust to be intimate with pain, something all beings shared. Grell, on the other hand, held a sort of erotic lust that never crossed a sexual boundary despite its phenomenal intensity. He expressed the lust of a killer; to feel their blood run down his body, to hear their panting and racing heart, to have their hands and legs wrap, kick...Just come in contact...With his body and he was sated. His lust was the lust for lover's intimacy, something he could only find in murder.

_You taste_

_You taste..._

_You're such a gorgeous nightmare_

_Old habits never seem to go away_

Greed, no, Grell was never greedy in the sense of money. Grell had been known to covet beauty and even steal possessions from the women he reaped. He hadn't returned any but he did commit the crime of consuming flesh in the the form of a spirit. He consumed the image of women, mimicked it, and tried to buy it with make-up and gowns. He tried to be as women and William was almost convinced at some points that Grell was a woman. He was very feminine looking. His body was a stained glass portrait; white, red, green, and gold mashed together at uneven angles that produced an eerie picture. He thought Grell's ribs would break under his touch as he scanned his abdomen, bringing him to next sin.

Sloth; Grell was anything but a sloth, he realized. Despite he sometimes slacked on his work the red-head was constantly at work. He did not let his body rest or relax in his endeavors to womanhood. When he did rest though he rested purely on the fantasies this flesh could speak of. The smell of defilement, of sex, of pain were not on him. Heartbreak, yes, self-loathing, yes, desperation for beauty, yes...But such common depravities did not mar the invisible realities (carved in blood) living in his skin. He rested on the sinful reveries of making love for love, in deep love, and death in love. _  
><em>

_You make me feel brand new, yeh!_

_We resurrect, it's like I've come back to life!_

_I feel so alive!_

_I feel so alive!_

Gluttony. William laid him back and took his legs, examining their all too womanly curves and structure. Indeed, Grell was guilty of eating from the lotus flower, lavishing sweet, Arabian honey, dining on fine wine and dark chocolate, and forbidden berries that opened surreal images to their supernatural existence. All of these were strangely beneficial to Grell, perfected his beauty so to speak. Not only that but stranger food like clay from the mountains, greens (and herbs) from the ground, and meat from the purest of forest animals; deers. Grell was a creature that fed only on the pure. He wanted organic nourishment that starved his weak body. He was culpable of starving his body with the purities of the world.

That brought him to Wrath, a vice that both he and Grell were guilty of. William hated his being, not his body. His acts of hatred were expressed in physical damage, and he lavished in the pain. It was a release from his hatred, he could be liberated from his cage to become something bigger than himself. It was a mutual feeling, pain, that all shinigami would undergo throughout their life. Grell's wrath was toward his body from the outside in unlike William's whi_c_h was from the inside out. Grell hated that was a man and forced his body to suffer for it. He wanted to be a woman so bad he's strangle his torso with a corset despite breaking all his ribs. As long as he was identified as a physical woman he wouldn't cease to put on the countenance of the Blood Countess. Not until every woman who abused her gender paid with their blood for taunting him with what he could never have. That was their Wrath._  
><em>

_First impressions are hard to erase_

_(Hard to erase)_

_Etched in my mind and it just_

_Won't go away (just won't go away)_

Pride, it was William's sole crime alone. True, Grell often boasted of his beauty and perfection, and flaming blood chamber, but he was not full of pride. William prided on his work and the necessary pleasure of his masochism. He prided himself on his stature to dominate and pursue his selfish endeavors. Grell's body only pride was that it tempted William. He wanted something from Grell's flesh because of the pure emotion flowing around it. Next was Envy, that was something both he and Grell still experienced in their lifetime. William envied humans for the extended pleasures they could enjoy; whether through good or evil, the one seeking desire could somehow acheive their goals. Grell envied humans for their fragile romances and, of course, the females most of all. He'd often go on and on about how William should open up to him like Romeo did to Juliet. Both were bound by laws and innate curses just as much the shinigami were.

And lastly, Vanity...Grell was not vain. As hard as the red reaper worked to keep up appearances he'd never been vain. He was desperate...And so was William...

_Maybe I'm playing my cards way too safe_

_I've gotta change, change, change, change_

_Is it the way that you feel_

_Against my body?_

"You may put your clothes back on now," his voice choked somewhat, he had been stroking and touching Grell's skin for so long in his reverie. Streaks of red lay across Grell's skin where he had touched, a bit of blush here and there from within Grell. His heart was racing as the reaper looked up at him, taking his shoulders in his hands.

"So...mean..." Grell swallowed the blood in his mouth. The stitches were digging into his tongue with each movement, "Get me all hot and boiling...And then leave me unsatisfied..."

"Your tongue is bleeding," William noticed, shoving his fingers into his mouth to feel at the stitches before pulling back, "You've not torn them but they're digging into your flesh. I'd stop talking,"

"Oh..." Grell smirked, his pearly razors now dyed red, "Why don't you make me...? I've already had my morning ritual, why don't you take care of the rest?"

_Is it the way that you act, so damn naughty?_

_Is it the way that you shake when your hips_

_Move to the bass, the bass, the bass, the bass..._

_You're such a gorgeous nightmare_

"Grell..." William's eyebrow twitched, he throat tightened, and he looked stoically toward the wall, "Are you implying we have sexual intercourse?"

Grell smirked seductively, his almond-shaped eyes tearing through his stern countenance. William had been intrigued by Grell's flesh; how perfect it was despite all its imperfect structure and design, how lovely his hair was, but those eyes...His face was sharp and thrilling to the eye, sinfully and abnormally beauty in its strange frame of red hair but his eyes were unlike any shinigami eyes he'd seen. They were more gold-like the sun almost- than any pair of eyes he'd every seen. It kept one between two choices; mine those eyes out to their hollow, black core, or leave the surface sleek and clean as to avoid getting to know the glowing darkness within Grell's brain. As he pondered this Grell pushed him onto the bed, climbing atop of him and using his naked hips and thighs to strangle his superior's pelvis.

"Oh...I'll do...all the work," he smirked.

_Old habits never seem to go away_

_You make me feel brand new, yeh!_

_We resurrect, it's like I've come back to life!_

_I feel so alive!_

Grell chuckled suddenly, tracing his hand down William's shirt to his belt, which he eagerly began to undo. Strangely enough, William was aroused. However, he wasn't about to let himself be dominated by Grell who certainly needed a lecture on personal boundaries.

"Grell Sutcliffe," William grabbed his wrist and twisted it, causing Grell to whimper and stretch his back in both pain and pleasure, "If we are to have carnal relations you should understand that we need certain preparations,"

"Ahhh..." Grell moaned softly as William's grip tightened on his wrist, "Anything...Please...Anything..."

William pushed Grell off and pinned him to the bed, "First off, I'm on top. Secondly,"

He smashed his lips on his own, "This is an order. No one will know of this and you will not speak one word of it or I will cut your tongue out,"

Grell shivered, oh, William was so sexy when he was making these sort of orders. He nodded, reaching for him as he stood to undress.

_I feel so alive!_

_I feel so alive!_

_I feel so alive!_

_You're such a gorgeous nightmare_

"Ehhh~!" Grell whined, pulling William by his tie back onto the bed, "It's...My job...To undress...You..."

He removed the tie, William spoke up, "You shouldn't speak, you'll get blood on the sheets,"

Grell smirked, entitled to say that since he was a virgin there'd be blood on the sheets anyways but decided against it. Oh! William was letting him touch him and love him, this was a dream come true! Why hadn't he barged in on William years ago? He felt himself growing even more aroused as he remembered how passionately William tore the flogging tool into the flesh of his back. Oh, each lash hurt with the pain of William's cold gaze turning to poison-tipped knives but felt utterly angelic! Even if it killed him at least he'd still be with his love in death, reunited in the form of decay for all eternity like reverse gestation.

He sighed blissfully as William's neck was free from the restraints of his collar, he leaned forward and gently kissed his neck.

_Old habits never seem to go away_

_You make me feel brand new, yeh!_

_We resurrect, it's like I've come back to life!_

_You're such a gorgeous nightmare_

William twitched a bit and made a guttural, choking noise. He didn't stop Grell though, he wanted Grell's flesh. He wanted to know what it was like to be hurt by someone else. This was nothing but yet another way to express his love of pain, and his lust for the release it offered. Shockingly enough Grell offered his bite again, nibbling along his jugular and collarbone. He whispered a few sweet things here and there, but the initial icy prick of Grell's teeth on his skin was arousing enough. He didn't need sweet words, he needed the pain Grell's flesh provided whether it was psychological or physical. Pain was pain in and of itself, it was the mark of humanity.

"Oh William..." Grell's blood dripped on his neck a bit, "I love you...So much..."

_Old habits...Don't go away_

_You make me feel brand new, yeh!_

_We resurrect, it's like I've come back to life!_

_I feel so alive!_

The brunette reaper paused as Grell spoke yet again, "Make love to me,"

William grimaced, feeling his self-loathing sink into the pit of heart. This wasn't right, it was selfish. This actually meant something to Grell and while William often hurt Grell he couldn't see himself doing this to the inferior reaper. He stood, throwing a blanket at Grell's lap to cover his nudity, "I'm apologize for my actions. Get your rest, I need to leave and run a few errands."

"Wai...!" Grell cried, he was already out the door and thus leaving Grell in tears.

_I feel so alive!_

_I feel so alive!_

_I feel so alive!_

_...Run free..._


	8. Chapter 8

Well, didn't I say I'd add Lady Gaga in here...

Judas-Lady Gaga.

Please review! :) Also, in this chapter, Religion is brought up. I am not against religion, I am a Protestant myself. But, just so you know, if you're offended, that was not my intention. It may seem a bit controversial but when you're both a Grell fanatic and a Jesus lover...This is what comes up...ALSO, ANYONE HERE AN ARTIST AND HAS AN ACCOUNT ON DEVART? I am soooo dying to see comics or depiction of William's backstory and attraction to Grell from "His Scarlet Effect." anyone please! XD

* * *

><p>When William arrived home later that day he was less than surprised to find that Grell Sutcliffe had left. He supposed it was only rational after what he had done, the red reaper even had the dignity to leave a note and asks for his chainsaw back. The supervisor sighed, he'd certainly have to return it before things got out of hand. He looked at the clock, it wasn't late out. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, there wasn't much to do considering he had been suspended from his position until the physical assured his superiors that he was mentally and physical stable enough to continue in his position. He rubbed his eyes, turning back to the clock when he noticed the red, leather bound Bible he had found in Grell's coat.<p>

_Ohohohohoh_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah-as_

_Ohohohohoh_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah-as_

"Honestly," he picked it up, opening the cover to find Grell's name written in swirling, red letters, "Why Sutcliffe has interest in studying this Scripture..."

Religion in the Shinigami World had been outlawed centuries ago with the coming of Christ. True, that it was Christianity that had aided in forming Dispatch Societies such as the London Division, it had been banned due to rivalry between death gods about what manner to reap a soul with, the rules, and the verification. It all came down to the cold-hearted truth that in order to complete Death's final stroke than emotion and external interests had to be banned. Religion went straight to the heart and the soul, creating bias thoughts regarding those on the To-Die list.

Not only that, but religion created a way of life. It was full of rules and regulations that could kill a person if not followed properly. Thus, why on earth Grell would carry a book full of these rules and regulations was beyond him. Grell showed no interest in rules.

_Jud-ah! Judah-Ah! Judah! Judah-Ah!_

_Jud-ah! Judah-Ah! Jud-as! GAGA_

_Jud-ah! Judah-Ah! Judah! Judah-Ah!_

_Jud-ah! Judah-ah! Jud-as! GAGA_

Taking a look though would not be a violation of the rules. As he looked through he found many passages outlined in red ink (obviously by Grell) and perhaps fifty pages that had been shrouded by fine white white paper that was stapled over it. The paper was translucent, but the writing on the paper was quite interesting. There were many poems, many Grecian myths added in as well_,_ even a few entries that would better suit a diary. The Song of Songs had been highlighted not only in red but had many small portraits in the corners_. _They were quite abstract but they had an intimate look in their swirling shapes and lines, and the value swirled into a single, glittering theme.

Was there something greater here than just commandments? He sighed and shut the book, standing. It would be best to return this book to its rightful owner.

* * *

><p><em>When he comes to me, I am ready<em>

_I'll wash his feet with my hair if he needs_

_Forgive him when his tongue lies through his brain_

_Even after three times, he betrays me_

Grell sighed blissfully as he sat on his bed, reading a book that his beloved knew only as a_ masterpiece._ He couldn't believe that William had actually retrieved and kept this text after that lad's death. It was quite worn, and the pages were starting to crinkle quite a bit. He had only read a bit of it while he was alive and wanted to catch up. The words were still manageable on the pages, and therefore readable. Oh! He wondered why William kept this, he never seemed interested in anything but work. Then again, considering what had just happened a few hours ago told him otherwise. He sighed and closed the book, holding it close to his chest.

Why couldn't he be the one William fell in love with? Why did he have to fall drastically in love with a woman who was born, walked, and contoured herself in streaks of Pain? And why didn't he see that Grell would be anything for him? He felt so betrayed...

_Ahahohohah! Ahahahahoh!_

_I'll bring him down, bring him down, down_

_Ahahohohah! Ahahahahoh!_

_A king with no crown, king with no crown_

He felt his chest ache again, oh, how cruel William was! He stole his heart with a single glance, kissed his blushing flesh with cold lips and betrayed him with a single kiss. Alas, his heartless acts of passion were; the scalpels that were his lover's fingers had cut too deep, the blood flow had stopped. He was a corpse, yet like Romeo to Juliet he found himself aching to kiss those hibernating eyelids and lips. Why though, why did he seem to take it out on Grell? The red reaper did not mind being hit by William, it was the most affection he ever got from him. But to play on as though it would be consummated for _this once _and then leave him in his sorrow...That was not William at all. He'd never leave what he started, he'd finish it despite the consequences.

_I'm just a Holy Fool, oh baby he's so cruel_

_But I'm still in love with Judas, baby_

_I'm just a Holy Fool, oh baby he's so cruel_

_But I'm still in love with Judas, baby_

Grell loved William to the point of a blade, if his love wished it he'd mummify himself with honey and sleep besides him in his rot. The perfume of their love would drive him crazy, it'd speak to him as his dried, preserved skin wrinkled about his defined features. Even in death, their love would go on.

"Grell Sutcliffe!" there a loud knock on his loft's door.

"William~?" he cooked, frowning somewhat. He stood and walked from his bedroom in nothing but a red, silk robe with a chemise beneath it, "What do you want?"

He opened the door, keeping the chain secured on it so it could only open so much.

_Ohohohohoh_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah-as_

_Ohohohohoh_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah-as_

"You left your...Book...At my house," William did not want to say the word. Grell scowled somewhat.

"I left it there for you to read," Grell told him, "Go away,"

He made to shut the door when William stepped his foot in between the door and the wall, "I order you to unlock this door at once, Grell Sutcliffe,"

"Why?" Grell growled, "I..."

He grabbed his mouth, his tongue was still rather swollen and ached horribly. A few of the stitches were loose and causing anything he drank to make the wound bleed horribly. Speaking produced an even worse pain...Oh, damn his tongue!

"Grell Sutcliffe, let me in so I can treat your tongue. By your actions I know you've not been tending to it properly," William sighed, sounding somewhat soft considering that it was his fault Grell's tongue was in the condition it was in.

_Jud-ah! Judah-Ah! Judah! Judah-Ah!_

_Jud-ah! Judah-ah! Jud-ah! GAGA_

* * *

><p>Grell whined as William used a pair of hemostats (courtesy of the first aid all shinigami were given when they started working at the firm) and a medical scissor to tighten the stitches on Grell's tongue. The red reaper's talking had not done well for his tongue. William advised that Grell drink only water and less than one ounce of wine a day to clean out the injury. If he was going to eat he could only have foods that didn't require chewing, or some sort of nutritional shake he could swill instead. He also advised Grell against talking, much to his own fortune. He really didn't want to deal with Grell's words, he was glaring at him once the procedure was done.<p>

"I'm leaving now," William told him, setting the book down, "I have no interest in reading this, at all. Why you find pleasure in it is beyond me,"

"Mmm!" Grell whined gutturally, taking his hand and leading him to his bedroom. The red-head had a twinge of fear in his heart that William would return to look for his own book, and it was best to return it now.

_I couldn't love a man so purely_

_Even darkness forgave his crooked way_

_I've learned our love is like a brick_

_You can build a house or sink a dead body_

William stiffened somewhat when Grell took him to his bedroom, feeling as though the red-head would pounce on him any moment. However, the red-head simply picked a worn book off of his bed and handled it to William. His eyes widened, Grell had found this? The novel Thomas had written? This text was not forbidden but for Grell to have discovered this book that William retrieved for his reading pleasure...It was embarrassing! He had gathered these pages in secrecy and put them back in order, then he bound the book in leather after sewing the pages together. He blushed softly, it was almost unnoticeable, now Grell knew two elusive things about him. He loved pain and loved romance.

"I-I'll be going now," he stuttered, turning to leave when Grell whined again. _  
><em>

_Ahahohohah! Ahahahahoh!_

_I'll bring him down, bring him down, down_

_Ahahohohah! Ahahahahoh!_

_A king with no crown, king with no crown_

"What?" William asked, Grell lifted a note to his attention. Since Grell could not talk he had gotten out some parchment, ink, and a quill. _Will you read some to me?_ the note read.

"Read some to you?" William dictated, Grell nodded. He sighed, perhaps he could use this to satisfy his own curiosity. Once something got stuck in his head he was often obliged to solve it, a rather annoying habit that came from being a reaper, "Very well, I will read some to you, but you _will _tell me what you are doing with a Bible and why you've housed your own thoughts on its pages,"

Grell nodded, smiling eagerly as William opened to his most favored section. _  
><em>

_I'm just a Holy Fool, oh baby he's so cruel_

_But I'm still in love with Judas, baby_

_I'm just a Holy Fool, oh baby he's so cruel_

_But I'm still in love with Judas, baby_

"The miraculous ability of humanity was to love, and be loved. This honor was no longer bound by the fantastic intimacy of lovemaking though, not to these lovers. It was the intimacy that brought life in death. Two souls, William the Reaper, and his human lover, Rachel, baptized their love in the River Styx, hoping in sweet prayer to the Heavens above that death would not touch her. Much like Achilles was to humanity, entirely immortal. For William this was just as new to her just as he was new to the throes of love, he had never loved nor been loved before. He had no pulse, no seed to give, no meaning in life except to be the portal between life and death. His very destiny was to embrace Purgatory in the cold flames of death. His lover, his lamb, was warm and beautiful, kindly, and devout. His scythe would never peirce her yet it did, reading and witness the proof of every truth in her heart just as her soul did to his scythe. She read everything about him and did not fear his scythe. It was true, with the angels above as William's witness, she loved him deeper than the depth of her impending grave. She did not care he was death, she only cared they'd be joined forever in death as long as that demise gestated in their decay..."

"_Mmm..._" Grell mewled in his throat, nuzzling William's shoulder. _  
><em>

_Ohohohohoh_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah-as_

_Ohohohohoh_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah-as_

William shut the book, turning to Grell, "Well, Grell Sutcliffe, now won't you tell me _why _you carry an illicit book around?"

Grell sighed but nodded, scribbling something on the parchment. _Jesus committed an act of sacrifice for us, in prophecy His love reigned. Oh~! How beautiful a man must be, to love so deeply-as if erotically-and shed his crimson blood over my sinful creature-self to cleanse me~! So much like perfume...Oh, such a divine man who existed so long ago, who lives within me! To have his rot smell like myrrh and please His Abba above, oh to rise to see me again! Such a man I want to embrace and kiss as He is nailed up there on that cross._

William shivered in disgust, standing, "I best leave now then...Good-bye,"_  
><em>

_Ew..._

"AHH!" Grell whined, grabbing William's arm and nuzzled his hand. _  
><em>

_In the most Biblical sense,_

_I am beyond repentance_

_Fame hooker, prostitute, wench,_

_Vomits her mind_

"What is it?" William asked, sitting down once again to see what Grell wanted. He scribbled something onto the parchment again and showed it to him._ Would you betray me in order to see my body aflame with divine passion? Would you nail me up on your cross and drink my blood, bear a part of me inside you as I to you? _William seemed deeply disturbed, "Are you suggesting cannibalism?"

Grell giggled and shook his head. My, for someone who loved these Gothic romance novels, he certainly didn't get any symbolism outside that. He scribbled on the parchment again, _Would you lie besides my corpse until I rose from the dead? Would you ascend into Heaven with me through a chariot of fire? _He still seemed deeply disturbed. Grell sighed and tossed the parchment aside before taking a hold of William's shoulders and pulling him into a smothering kiss._  
><em>

_But in the cultural sense_

_(But in the cultural sense)_

_I just speak in future tense_

_(I just speak in future tense)_

Grell nuzzled the crook of William's neck, whispering breathlessly into his ear_._ Due to his severed tongue he was unable to make any unvoiced sound, only vowels and slurry syllables of the consonants. He could hear the relieved awe in his voice though, as he repeated the phrase over and over again until William could comprehend it, _You've never been made love to before, have you?_

"How can you tell?" William shook his head, hands on Grell's shoulders. The red-head made an affirmative noise, cooing shortly afterward as he undid the buttons on William's shirt. He was a tad surprised that Willaim wasn't hitting him or telling him to get off, but he supposed he was trying to compensate for what he had done to the red reaper early. _  
><em>

_Judas kiss me if offenced,_

_(Judas kiss me if offenced)_

_Or wear an ear condom next time_

_(Or wear an ear condom next time)_

Grell pulled the jacket off of William's body, his superior's hands that had been unconscious tugging at his robe succeeded in pushing it down to past his waist. The belt kept it taut around his feminine hips. Grell shifted, William deduced that he was nervous and also comfortable (considering what happened this morning.) He suddenly began leaning in though, so William assumed he was going to kiss him again, but instead he pushed William's body against the headboard. It wasn't rough, it was actually quite gentle considering Grell's violent tendencies. He deduced Grell played innocent to hide his rough, bed-room ridden fantasies. However, he realized it was not Grell's objective to bed him, he was examining the wound on his chest.

His delicately thin fingers traced the gauze and kissed just above its start on his chest. He nuzzled the injury with his face, his hair absorbing some of the blood that seeped through. He grabbed the ink well and the quill from his bedside table, he began to write on the gauze (everso gently as to not tear it.)_  
><em>

_I...Wanna love you_

_But something's pulling me away from you_

_Jesus is my virtue_

_And Judas is the demon I cling to (cling to)_

_'With this scar, I pronounce our union. One death scythe to a death god, you've been crucified and reborn by the very tool of our existence.'_

William furrowed his brow as Grell held a hand mirror at an angle where William would the letters written on the gauze, "And...What do you suggest I do to consummate this new 'union' you speak of?"

Grell seemed a little puzzled by his reacting, "Grell Sutcliffe, I have been a reaper just as long as you have. I see now how devoted you are to this idea of...Controversial romance...I understand this, but to ask if I'd be like a cannibal to retain our love. What are suggesting?"

Grell sighed, leaning into his ear again, "Ah..."

He hissed do to the pain in his tongue, "I-I am a nun...Yeh...Arh...Yeh to...Conns...Comm...Commune...With the...Host...Y-ah have been...Crucified...And...ah now...alive.."

_I cling to...!_

Grell kissed him again, nuzzling his chest with his hand as he pressed him back onto the headboard, William protested, "This is highly unprofessional; this conversation is illicit and your beliefs are illegal. Us...Interacting like this...Is prohibited...We're not allowed such luxuries at our state..."

Grell bit his earlobe, "N...No ahn...Buh...Gahd...Abov...Has...tah knah..."

_Just a Holy Fool, oh baby he's so cruel_

_But I'm still in love with Judas, baby_

_I'm just a Holy Fool, oh baby he's so cruel_

_(Just a Holy Fool! Ahohoh!)_

"And if I don't believe in this God?" William asked, Grell smirked. One moment he was acting like a poet with eccentric ideals of love_, _next an untouched, virgin nun, and now a seductress from the flames of Purgatory. He looked William over, studying the aurora around his skin. It was like a mist slowly detaching itself from the ground and evaporating_, _he took in the stress filled scent. The look in his eyes was all too hypnotized by William's aurora, his razor sharp teeth shivering against the chill of his superior's stern gaze.

William knew he couldn't respond due to the nature of his injury, thus, he relied on body language. By the smirk he assumed Grell had some planned depravity for him awaiting under the sheets of his bed. Or, Grell was using his flamboyant pseudo, masochistic tendencies to unnerve him and bring him to the end of himself. It was then he realized he hadn't cut himself within twenty-four hours...He had been thinking about Grell all day; about his injuries and the pain he was in. He turned to the book which rested just on the side of Grell's left thigh. They were embracing in the gestation of their decay...Lovers in death bound by eternity to thrive and bloom until the tomb turned to dust and nothing but asked remained. _  
><em>

_But I'm still in love with Judas, baby_

_Ohohohohoh (Woahahahwaoh!)_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as (Jud-ah-ah-ah...)_

_Jud-ah-as_

Very recently, since late last night, as he tended to Grell and his wounds, he considered perhaps making Grell his lover. He was going to take Grell into his bed, have carnal relations with him. It would have meant something though, and William had been committed to his work and his love of pain for so long. This was perhaps the longest period of time he'd been committed to someone else other than the two. He had always been possessive over Grell in the past; keeping him at work and out of trouble-trying to keep him safe. It was Grell he had to thank for his humanity.

If he'd never met Grell he probably would have never been ripped in half by those Cinematic Ribbons. He would have never experienced the pleasure of pain. He would have never grown into the character he was now, and he didn't have pain to thank for that. He had Grell, the red reaper _was_ his pain. He'd cut himself so many times after interacting with the reaper whether because he was in trouble or just wanted to annoy him with false attempts at adding a spark to their boss-employee relationship. It had been a way to ease the frustration, and he hated the fact he had been a drone. Being a drone is what led him to Grell's bedroom..._  
><em>

_Ohohohohoh (Woahahahwaoh!)_

_I'm in love with Jud-ah-as (Jud-ah-ah-ah...)_

_Jud-ah-as_

_Jud-ah! Judah-Ah! Judah! Judah-Ah!_

"I choose not to believe in this God, but I do believe that your beliefs are righteous in and of themself," William leaned close to Grell's face, "And I'd like to learn more of them, but seeing as you can't talk I'd like you to educate me through your body,"

The smirk on Grell's lips was all too convincing; pure emotion had been won...He was no longer bound to Lady Pain's brown kiss._  
><em>

_Jud-ah! Judah-Ah! Jud-ah! GAGA_


	9. Chapter 9

I Cannot Be Loved-My Dying Bride

Review please, comment on anything you find interesting and if you have any interesting insights or ideas...Or anything, please review. ^_^ I'd love some feedback on how to improve the story or maybe it's climax?

* * *

><p>When William had asked for Grell to speak through his body he hadn't been expecting this. Grell had retreated to the kitchen and returned with a platter with honey still on the conewafer, a whole pomegranate, and a bit of wine. Of all the stranger things...Food? Food was going to teach William how to interpret Grell's beliefs...Honestly his perspective was just as confounding as his emotional aurora. He gave William the wine glass after he sat back down on the bed, the tray had a rim on it so none of the food would fall off. Grell was especially picky with keeping a clean house, it wasn't like a lady to be untidy.

The brunette felt that Grell wanted him to take a sip of the wine, so he did. It was about three ounces so he was very discreet (he still didn't know whether Grell wanted some or not.) It was very...Tasteful, how old was this wine, he wondered. New wine seldom tasted rich and sweet, it was often bitter and rather sour. Grell must've had a collection, he concluded. Taking another sip to admire the taste he gave it back to Grell, who hesitated to take a sip but did anyhow. He whined a bit due to the sting in his tongue but managed. He set the glass down on the tray and removed the knife from the sleek service (how William missed it he didn't know.) He held it the point to his ring finger, pin-pricking the flesh until a few drops of blood fell into the wine glass.

_Lover put a knife in my hand_

_"Lay down right there..."_

_"That's my command."_

_Do as I say...In this blood-play_

This was a form a communion, William knew this. He had monitored deaths in churches after all and he grew accustomed to watching people eat and drink the Host. The Scripture stated clearly that on their last night together Jesus broke the bread and gave each his disciples, even Judas, a piece. Then, he gave them each a sip of wine and for both he claimed it was his body and his blood. The very symbolism of it though, or perhaps the better term was genuineness, processed rather vaguely in his mind. He watched Grell very carefully as he gave him the wine glass again, urging him to drink. William was reluctant but drank anyhow, discovering the taste to be even more intoxicating!

Grell then grabbed his free hand and placed the knife in it. He stared at the blade in awe, was Grell actually asking him to cut himself again? No...That's not what this Eucharist was about, it was about Grell's flesh being offered to those crucified besides him. Perhaps he was starting to understand? And with that he placed the knife back in Grell's hand, who looked at him with a small, seductive smirk. He used the knife to cut open the pomegranate and gave William half of it. This was a common fact upon all reapers; pomegranates were the fruit of the dead since death prided upon itself. It was the only enemy invincible to its attackers! He shook his head, smiling somewhat. Grell truly was trying to speak to him in silent poetry. Snacking on the seeds of the pomegranate would bind him to this vow just as Persephone was to Hades. He clutched a few seeds between his fingers and placed them in his mouth.

_Claw at my skin, I'll let you win_

_Caress your flesh_

_Burns like fire_

_Rosy sweet breath and your desire_

Grell giggled, covering his pale lips when he noted a pomegranate seed lingered on the corner of William's lips. He reached to William's lips and grasped the seed between his long, red nails when his superior grabbed his smaller hand, "You're still bleeding and that was my snack,"

The seed and the blood on Grell's pricked finger joined on the appendage's tip, a new marriage had been formed. Death and the Eucharist, oh, he shivered! To be forever joined with his beloved in the gates of Heaven, in their bleak Underworld where his smile was the mere Luna above! Oh, he loved the very idea of it! He shivered even more when William kissed his fingertip, taking the seed and the drop of blood into his mouth. He tasted better than the aged wine and better than the fruit. He placed his hand on his chest, leaning into Grell who stopped him abruptly. Obviously the lesson was on yet finished.

_Your skin, it's all...All I want_

_To take from you_

_Your mind is naught onto me_

_I'll leave behind_

He brought the honey comb to his lips and took a small bite. The wax of it was organic and thus edible. William knew this as well, honey was a cherished substance by its very nature. Despite how one wanted to consume a flower to attain its scent and beauty they could not. Honey was the direct result of its consumption; processed through the stomach of a bumble bee and vomited up. It was sweet and was said to have healing powers. In other parts of the world he heard tell it was used in facial clays to maintain soft skin, others as a painkiller. There were many types of honey though and thus he didn't know which one to trust. He wasn't quite sure what kind of honey Grell was using; that of thorned, claret roses or pure, white calla lilies he didn't know. It looked dangerously sweet, just as escaping the edge of death was similar to that of the pomegranate.

Grell had only brought one honey comb though. Perhaps this was a lesson not for William.

_Bound together, the darkest embrace_

_Bound forever..._

_We will be chaste_

_I paw...At your golden flesh_

"Grell Sutcliffe," he sighed, "I do not understand this at all,"

Grell took the tray and set it down on the nightstand, still nibbling on the cone when he turned back to William. His eyebrow shifted seductively, his eyes never once breaking their lock on William. He removed the remaining cone from his mouth, his lips sticky and breath sweet smelling from the honey.

"Grell Sutcliffe..." William's eyes narrowed somewhat as Grell's lips closed in on his. He didn't pull away though as Grell's tongue (still saturated in sweet honey) touched his lips. He pushed his tongue between his lips, opening his mouth, and leaned in to kiss him deeper when he shoved his fingers into William's mouth, placing the honey wafer on his tongue. William gagged momentarily, placing his hands on Grell's chest to push him away, when the red-head engaged his mouth in chewing the cone. It was sweet, hardly as sweet as Grell's saliva made it though, he confessed to himself.

_Golden breast_

_I sail on your...On your sea_

_Of ecstasy..._

_God I want you...Just be mine_

Grell's tongue continued to swirl around his own, which was now laden with bits of the cone he had chewed and swallowed. As he scraped his tongue over Grell's he relished in the taste of his raw tongue; traces of blood and the flesh between the stitches. It was intoxicating! He groaned, opening his eyes as Grell leaned against him. He pushed him back, smothering his petite form. His body was so soft and delicate, fragile even. Yet it vibrated with an energy that made it hard, defined, and almost unbreakable. William began rocking his hips against Grell, who opened his legs to welcome the motion. Oh, his body was so like a scalpel. It was made of one of the strongest materials, it looked so delicate-almost like a jewel-but was harder and could do more harm than its appearance put on.

He bit down on his neck, earning a gasp from Grell who then moaned accordingly as his superior ran his tongue over the now raw, somewhat bleeding flesh.

_Because you haunt me..._

_All the time_

_Your pain, it talks to me_

_Your pain, it talks to me_

* * *

><p>Somehow William felt that Grell was the incarnation of pain. His naked form lay before his own, protected by a thin sheet of silk from Grell's bed. His face was so peaceful and calm, like a corpse now at peace. Shinigami did not breathe when they slept, adding even more to his Sleeping Beauty aurora. In the almost microscopic, fine lines of the red reaper's face Pain had left her mark. His thin, dry lips opened a tad to reveal the sharp edges of his teeth. His skin was pale, as if cuts had drained all the blood out from his skin. A single touch though disproved that, as his skin was lukewarm and his pulse was tangible at his jugular. Pain possessed him though; pain of rejection, of love never requited, of beatings and endless nights of longing for death to bring him everlasting joy and bliss. Those treacherous shadows never came though, or when they did arrive they abandoned him on the spot.<p>

William touched his cheek, adjusting the blanket atop his own nude form. _  
><em>

_Your pain, it talks to me_

_And I heed it well_

_My hands, your neck!_

_They greet each well_

His hand moved to Grell's neck, absentmindedly he wondered how easily his flesh could bruise. It had been their first time exploring each other's bodies in such depth, in such commitment and intimacy. He had only been so intimate with his own flesh, when he dug razors in so deep to see the muscle fibers and veins he could not slice. He knew flesh as a structure, as a mere network of nerves, veins, muscle fibers. It was the embodiment of one's soul and their mind, almost what kept them sane even. His only sanity came from tearing it apart, and he knew Grell's sanity was beyond normal. It was Surreal, Romantic, Tragic, and Gothic. His white skin, his blood, the network of nerves running through his bones and spine, and his golden eyes, was laden with extra-sensory wavelengths. Much like his chainsaw he felt the bone of his surrounding shatter and fall to bits, lavishing in their energy upon passage. He leeched off of it and how unrealistically beautiful in his made, yet so ugly at the same time. He was a nightmare in the form of beauty.

Romantic, now that was double-sided; it was love of another and love of GOD and all that embodied GOD. Such a divine Father could not be bound by flesh, but he could glow through the flesh. During their heated exploration, crushing each other into the mattress and their limbs twisting until they lost all feeling, he classified the red reaper as almost genderless (spiritually, so to speak.) He was a divinity of death, and death was only a natural occurrence. He loved all under death, just as the dying loved him. Gender was no matter here. Thus, Romance, as well as romance under the sheets. He was a desirable incubi...succubi...He grimaced, demons of desire...He had fallen to one before whose eyes gleamed like silver.

_In a loving Hell_

_This hold we have can't last_

_It's killing me_

_Farewell my love, please walk away_

Tragic, yes, Grell was tragic. He was forever lost not only in himself but the outside world. He longed for love, to be loved as a woman and not just as a man. He loved in many ways; he lusted, desired, liked, admired, and adored. These instances of infatuation were always mixed and sometimes all were applied at once such as in Jack the Ripper. He shivered, tracing his fingers down Grell's arm. The reaper stirred for a moment before calming back into his sleep, he wasn't in deep sleep yet. The shadows his hair cast over his face made him appear like a dark worshiper, Gothic indeed. Black was the concentrated essence of red, only so much blood could be poured into a vat to create a jelly of black. Grell worshiped the cross in red, not black. After all, red signified life, did it not? It was the color of blooming roses, one of the hues mixed into the sky at sunrise, and the color of blood shed in the name of love.

Grell was a twisted sort of Pain entirely, the beautiful twin of his former lover Pain. He would not be the one bleeding though, the liquid on the sheets proved that entirely. He wanted to possess that numbing Pain...

_And take away My Pain_


	10. Chapter 10

YAOI! XD...

L'amor Detruit (The Destroyed Love)-My Dying Bride

^_^ ENJOY

Sorry this was late, kinda lost my muse...Anyhow, started a NEW FICCY! "The Tomb." UndertakerxGrell

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><p><strong><em>Pain embraced him like thorns to a rose<em>**, Grell embraced him like death to a corpse. One of them forever cleaving him in endless truth and devotion.** _Pain made him writhe within the depths of her spasm-ridden cunt_**, Grell made him writhe in the throes of caress. Heated, breathless kisses touched his neck, **_cold nails slid down his jugular._** _**Scalpels and his hand birthed scars**_, perhaps Grell could birth something immaculate? At the end of this night he knew this would mean something, he was ready to commit. In swirling waves and tides of their new union he would know truly Grell was the incarnation of his romance with Pain. This illness he had was a pre-existing condition wrought into his DNA, sweetened in his skin, oh...How Grell's lithe limbs tightened around him. The discomfort was wonderful...Grell's body was a tomb, entirely a tomb, to Pain, and a Temple of the Pleasure she provided. It was suddenly so warm in her limestone walls.

_In love, the honey of romance_

_So sweet for us_

_Through swaying grass we run_

_The honey of our romance  
><em>

As their lips locked in zealous passion, both for the thorns and scent of a black rose, they both felt a twinge of static shock being exchanged. This was a basic fact of physics, when two bodies rubbed together they sought for electric equilibrium. Thus when lightening struck the ground it had achieved balance, and the ground enlightenment. He pulled away for a moment, looking into Grell's eyes for reassurance that he wanted this. The red-head demonstrated this by tugging at his vest, and his shirt. William sat up and immediately removed his torso coverings until he was down to nothing but his pants.

The red-reaper smirked and nuzzled his cheek into his lover's neck, kissing the flesh and gently rubbing his knuckles over the gauze on his chest. William took the shoulders of his robe and pulled the silk off, revealing Grell to be entirely nude. Oh, he was so beautiful, just as he had been earlier.

_So sweet, to us_

_These arms that fold around you_

_It's just us, just us_

_Your charm, so rare_

Laying back Grell wrapped his legs around William's hips, which were beginning to rock against his growing arousal. He knew, William knew, this was their only way to connect on a molecular level. Each cell in the red reaper's body was screaming, he would hear his heart beating in his head. Despite he did not need to breathe he found himself panting, kissing up and down William's neck as his nails wracked up and down his back. His nerves were losing it, he'd never done this before and he doubted his new lover ever had. He was apprehensive and unable to contain his curious ecstasy! Oh, he needed release, his ached so terrible inside and out! His blood, he felt his blood had become steam, he was filling with hot air. He was floating with only the weight of William's body keeping him down.

"Grell Sutcliffe," William broke the silence of their embrace, "You're shaking, shall I continue?"

Grell traced the buckle of his belt, nodding as he bit his lip. To better emphasize his desire he squeezed William's crotch, earning a guttural grunt from the brunette who reached down to undo his belt.

_My flesh, made bare_

_In love, we dare_

_I will kiss her mouth_

_And her dark eyes_

He pulled his belt off, throwing it to the floor. Grell eagerly grabbed the button of his trouser and undid it, proceeding down to the zipper when William stopped him. He whined in annoyance, unable to speak just yet, when William brought a finger to his mouth. He seemed to have his tongue in a knot, staring down at Grell firmly, before he began to speak, "You've not been prepared,"

Grell blushed, oh! William was acting so courteous! His smile widened, revealing his teeth, and his brunette lover smothered his lips with his own. Grell almost screamed aloud, his superior's hips smothering his own-his arousal being squeezed beneath the pressure. William's tongue immediately violated Grell's mouth, gliding gracefully over his jagged teeth and causing the muscle to bleed. Grell felt the vibrations of William's moans roam down his throat with his blood, bringing Grell's nerves to spasm. Oh, this was all so sensual! Wrapping his arms around William's shoulders he deepened the kiss, idly wrapping his tongue around William's to get a better taste of his plasma.

_Loose myself freely_

_In her dark eyes_

_Fall in through her soul_

_Her mind, her skies_

Every sensation seemed heightened with the dab of pain in William's tongue. Oh, the high of serotonin and adrenaline only stiffened his erection, he hadn't partook of pain in so long. He hadn't done this for himself though, he had done this for Grell. Smothering Grell's flesh, touching his flesh, caressing it, and kissing it he felt his body absorb the great emotion flowing around him. Grell's flesh was his counter-part, the completion of his doppelganger. He could partake without hurting himself, and he subtly knew that even if he hurt Grell he'd indulge in it. Grell only wanted to be touched by William's hand, whether for pain or for pleasure. He pulled away for a moment, staring into Grell's eyes again.

He then placed two fingers in his mouth, coating them in his blood and saliva. The red reaper shivered, realizing what William was planning. He licked his lips, coating his pink lips in William's red blood that remained on his tongue. Oh! Red, sweet red blood from William's tongue, the tongue that had been in mouth! His tongue that had allowed him to say such sweet things to him despite his cold facade in the workplace! These thoughts flooded through him in a storm of pleasure as his superior began to prepare him. The sensation was bitter, and a bit painful. Grell, being the beautiful seductress he was, had been certain to purge his system that morning. He did this every morning, always planning to have his body sanctified to through the sacred act of lovemaking. That did not make William's loving actions less bitter though.

_Our limbs entwine_

_Her calls are mine_

_Until we find..._

_Her red lips of her-her mouth_

"Wil..." Grell tried to call, toes and fingers entangled in the sheets, "Ahh...Ahhh..."

"Am I hurting you?" he pulled out, "Shall I stop?"

Grell shook his head, the very thought of William's fingers inside of him was enough to shroud the bitter feeling. He was panting, and his body began to shake as he clenched the sheets. William was no longer inside him, he was kissing him now. He would move up every now and then to kiss his lips, but elsewhere he was kissing his torso. There was so much more to Grell that he didn't merely want to touch, but taste. Grell's blood, he knew, tasted like aged wine. What of his skin, he wondered, as he took his pink buds into his mouth. Grell moaned softly, writhing somewhat beneath him. His tongue traveled around his navel, back to his ribs. He inspected each one with his fingers, and then back up to Grell's neck where he bit down ever-so softly.

"Ahh~!" he whined, bucking his hips up.

_They call to me_

_Her mind is mine_

_Her flesh, my kind_

_Warm, soft, smooth-mine!_

"Are you certain?" William questioned. Grell was eagerly undoing his pants with a nod. He wanted William to love him, hurt him, touch him-anything to show he cared for the sanctity of this moment. He watched as his lover took a deep breath once Grell got his trousers down, mewling excitedly at the site of his nude, lower half. William pulled back a moment to pull his pants off, Grell followed him. He balanced on his knees, turning his lover to face him. He wrapped his arms around him, his hands gently massaging into his back as he heatedly kissed his lips.

"Mm...Grell..." the brunette wrapped his arms around Grell as well, he was shaking a bit. Grell's lips moved to his neck, nipping softly and allowing his teeth to scrape his skin a bit. For a moment he pondered if he was ready for this, if Grell was ready for this, and if he'd be able to hold up to this sort of commitment. He turned his gaze down at Grell for a moment, he was hypnotized momentarily by the soft allure of his face. The expression, the emotion, the way his eyes were glazed over completely with not only desire but also fulfillment. He had waited so long for this. With a deep breath he cupped Grell's chin and brought his head up, kissing him as he gently pushed him down. His hands then found the sides and back of Grell's head, both their eyes locked in an internal illusion of what was to come. Their lips locked in a tight, heated embrace.

_I lack for naught_

_Her-her mind-welcomes my thoughts_

_Within our arms, we sleep_

_Deeply, deeply_

Grell nails dug into William's back as he eased in (somewhat shakily.) It was a bitter sensation for the first few moments, he grit his teeth and arched his back as a sharp pain shot up his spine. He broke the skin on William's back just he broke him.

"Ahhh~ nnn..." he whined, burying his face in his lover's neck. William said nothing however despite he noted the slight hint of pain in his lover's voice. His own teeth were gritting, his lover was tight, tense...Almost to the point he was beginning to feel suffocated (his breath was holding much deeper.) The heat was intense, he clutched Grell, wishing to expel it almost. He hadn't felt such an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure, not even in his frequent throes of masochism. He kissed the red reaper's neck softly, the smaller of the two began to pant and whimper every so slightly. He then proceeded up to his lips, solacing him with gentle kisses as he began thrusting. Grell then moaned as his cock ventured deeper, hitting his prostate and sending a jolt of bittersweet pleasure up his body.

_I pull her close to me_

_Near me, into me_

_Entering the dark, so close, entwined_

_We drift away to nothing_

They both felt it an immense heat that slowly melted them into each other; pain and pleasure, red and black, green eyes with gold eyes, and flesh to emotion. Yet, at the same time, they were still separate. This heated blur slowly blended colors, their experience of lovemaking a single entity and yet a different sensation to each's own. To William, he felt an immense pressure building in him and also surrounding him, Grell's embrace was almost as endless as his long, limber legs that were folded up to his shoulders. Oh Heavens above, he was beautiful. His long, red nails raking down his back only heightened his pleasure, William continued to kiss him and nuzzle him as his thrusts became steadily erratic and harder. He admired how Grell's eyes closed, his his red hair washed over his blushing, pale skin, the way his head cocked back and forth to process what was happening. He was exceeding sensual. To Grell, he felt as if he was being slowly severed in two, but not in a painful way. With each thrust of William's hips that hit that spot in him, jolts and shivers were sent up and down his body. His nerves were in shock from the mixed sensations, he was hungry for pleasure that only his lover could provide. He was dying and living at the same time; almost to Heaven but somehow still a part of Hell. Reaching one hand down from the back of William's neck (which he had been grasping along with his spine's arches) he reached one hand down his own torso to pleasure himself. Oh, climaxing with William would be simply fantastical! The two of them, coming into fruition together, completing their union-when William pushed his hand away.

"Keep...nnn...Raking..." was all the brunette could mutter out, Grell's hands were only adding to his orgasmic ecstasy. Grell whined somewhat, biting down on William's shoulder, almost driving him over the edge, then he stopped. He instead proceeded to kiss and suckle along the newly inflicted injury. Grell was so stubborn sometimes! William gently slid his hand down Grell's already blushing torso and grasped his member, pumping and squeezing evenly with his thrusts. The red reaper's moans began to echo, he was reaching his orgasm. He clenched William tight, squeezing him into that blissful discomfort of suffocation and pain, pulling him deeper, and then into climax as the larger of two squeezed him unbearably tight.

**_"Oh...Will...n..."_**

_And no one will find..._


	11. Chapter 11

Like You-Evanescence

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><p>They did not want to surrender their bliss, even after the energy had been drained from their bodies. Falling in and out of sleep they found themselves in eachother's arms once again; shaky and nervous as their bodies found solace in their humility. Their thoughts fell into a lucid fog, each movement, sound, and touch had its moment of peak and restoration. Their eyes interlocked and fixated not into eachother's but into the aurora around their bodies. And as Grell lied atop William, the red-head embracing him and kissing his neck with his tight movement of his hips around the brunette's, slowly his hazed mind turned to Pain.<p>

She was still there_, _the shadows around Grell, on his skin, and outlining his body called her name and pulled her in. She was sewn into William's skin, each and every scar bearing her name and the relentless touch of her teeth and nails. She struck him cold and in slits, each clawing lasting a mere second before repeating itself again. Fragments of her face, especially her razor-blade eyes, gleamed in the pale, distorted flesh._  
><em>

_Stay low_

_Soft, dark, and dreamless_

_Far beneath my nightmares_

_And loneliness_

Grell's warm, abnormally flexible body pressed against his. His soft, now pale lips (as William's tongue had licked the blood away) embraced his own with fierce, languid passion. His gentle movements causing the one beneath him to writhe everso slightly, his lover's hands running up and down his back with each sensual gyration. In the back of his mind William could not release Pain from her place. She haunted him even during this wonderful time where both he and his new lover became one flesh and one emotion, one experience. His labored breathes, his labored hips that moved with Grell's tenser ones, he could feel himself not only inside Grell but a part of him. Yet Pain desired the place_..._William hated himself. He was thinking about Pain rather than the beauty and intimacy of the never-ending moment he and his lover shared.

He wanted to hate himself for allowing pain to enter into Grell's bed with him. He adored it when Grell's nails dug into him, when his sharp teeth cut his tongue. Was he in love with Grell? Or Pain? Certainly those attributes linked to both, and he began to hate himself for enjoying this pleasure at Grell's expense. _  
><em>

_I hate me_

_For breathing without you_

_I don't want to feel anymore_

_For you..._

He didn't want to feel for Pain, but she was a part of him. His heart hadn't beat in many years without the sake of her body, her form-any wisp of her-granting his carnal, masochistic pleasures on ecstatic scales. Her laughter remained with every blade that nicked his bones. Grasping the red-reaper's thighs as he sat up, blushing lips and glazed eyes yearning for William to speak to him, he groaned. He wasn't in love with Pain, he was in love with the idea of her. He was in love with the idea of his love for her being one-sided. He did not receive emotional closure when it came to lying with such a mistress. Only his body, his nerves, his psychoactive climaxes from his body melding into him via the slice of scalpels and razorblades! Oh, it had been wonderful but in all that wonder and shameful glory, there had been no growth.

She was a mistress of pure black; her skin a graven white as if the blood had been drained completely from her body. She cloaked her white hair with a black hood and shadows added detail to her flat face. All the life within her had gone; this succubus was nothing but a haggard memory, need, fascination, study even, of what he so desired._  
><em>

_Grieving for you_

_I'm not grieving for you_

_Nothing real love can't undo_

_And though I may have _

Her blood had been taken by Bathory and poured onto Grell, who suffered no such youthful tragedy as Bathory. He had been baptized in the virgin sin from Pain's veins. Pain had made herself idle with the red of his blood, each cell and red fiber of muscle tissue found rest in Grell's body with each penetration. Red was the color of his pain and his pleasure, not black like years of watching himself scar over had led him to believe. He no longer yearned to be like Pain, with all human vulnerabilities webbed into a single entity. Instead, like the red reaper who embodied the true pleasure and character of pain. He had lost his path in Pain's black, rotting eyes.

He had lost himself in Grell's white, shining body and that small, red ribbon that had trickled down his thighs_.  
><em>

_Lost my way_

_All paths lead straight to you_

_I long to be like you_

_Lie cold in the ground like you_

Grell was perhaps the coldest person he knew, he realized. Through his insufferable pane of overzealous endeavors, procrastination, and all of those other tacky aspects that annoyed the firm, he had dealt with worse things that William. The brunette had a decent life, he had always had food on the table and more than enough to spare on frivolities. True had had constantly saw himself with no meaning other than to reap souls, he had lived a rather secure and decent life. On the other hand, Grell may have been a brilliant reaper but he had little to live for. The red reaper often claimed he got up in the morning just to see William's face. He so lavished in embracing the brunette each morning and night at dawn and at dusk.

He left work each night, and arrived every morning, to no avail. Grell took mortification and humility with such resilience because it was the easier form of acceptance to receive. He was cold to himself, he denied everything about himself in order to spawn beauty._  
><em>

_(I'm here)_

_Halo, blinding warmth between us_

_Not to wake me_

_Leave us alone again_

He had met Grell back at the academy, he had noticed him before but never really associated with him until the final exam. His red hair always made him stand out, but when the two were put together passive and aggressive came together. Grell hated him at first and William was quite apathetic toward him. In the end though William grew into aggression and Grell grew into passion. Everyday since he had been treading to get the brunette's attention; he wanted just one glance from his cold eyes. He wanted a response that showed they were in this together, they were together, and that they would always be together. He'd never given such a glance since that day until this night, when they had been connected in a most intimate way.

Pain had taken William's life through Grell, the red reaper who showed him the significance of life and rescued him from its struggle to acheive said importance. _  
><em>

_Humming, haunted somewhere out there_

_I believe that love can see us through_

_In death_

_I long to be like you_

"Grell..." he muttered softly, pulling him down gently by his shoulders, "Thank you..."

He kissed his lips softly.

"F-for what?" Grell cooed.

"We should stop..." William pulled him up and off his cock, "You look exhausted,"

Grell smiled softly as he straddled his side, drawing gentle circles on his chest. Mm~! Grell's nails had scraped his skin during their profound _abstinence,_ tinting his skin a red color in parallel slits. _  
><em>

_Lie cold in the ground like you_

_There's room inside for two_

_And I'm not grieving for you_

_I'm coming for you_

* * *

><p><strong>Tragic, yes, Grell was tragic. He was forever lost not only in himself but the outside world. He longed for love, to be loved as a woman and not just as a man. He loved in many ways; he lusted, desired, liked, admired, and adored. These instances of infatuation were always mixed and sometimes all were applied at once such as in Jack the Ripper. He shivered, tracing his fingers down Grell's arm. The reaper stirred for a moment before calming back into his sleep, he wasn't in deep sleep yet. The shadows his hair cast over his face made him appear like a dark worshiper, Gothic indeed. Black was the concentrated essence of red, only so much blood could be poured into a vat to create a jelly of black. Grell worshiped the cross in red, not black. After all, red signified life, did it not? It was the color of blooming roses, one of the hues mixed into the sky at sunrise, and the color of blood shed in the name of love.<strong>

**Grell was a twisted sort of Pain entirely, the beautiful twin of his former lover Pain. He would not be the one bleeding though, the liquid on the sheets proved that entirely. He wanted to possess that numbing Pain...**

_You're not alone_

_No matter what they told you_

_You're not alone!_

_I'll be right beside you_

No matter what, Grell was not alone. He had William who was enamored by the reflection his twisted scythe that decorated his shadow like a broken, old mirror. His slice through the souls of those he reaped was like a gardener tearing thorny, rose vines from a massive, white pillar depicting a goddess of sex. After all, sex was an intimacy shared by two people who not only cared for eachother but sought eachother's intellectual health and psychological eccentricities. It was a respectable act that two people-who knew eachother better than they knew themselves-engaged in. Both had either aspects of eccentricity and mindful well-being, even as Grell slept he reminded William he'd never be alone. That despite how Grell's constructive solitude sometimes ached him to the brink of suicide, he'd never leave William. The brunette would never leave him either, he could not.

Even if this relationship fell into the fire and burned into nothing but ash, fruit would spring from the remains. Whether they'd slowly grow part with age or by tragedy, they would learn something new and gain expertise staring into their new lover's eyes. _  
><em>

_For evermore!_

_I long to be like you, love!_

_Lie cold in the ground like did_

_There's room inside for two_

He looked at the clock, he hadn't realized how long they had been lying there. It was three in the morning_, _by the amount of energy Grell had exhausted during their throes of intimacy he doubted he'd get up soon. He wanted to get up, to get something to eat, yet something in him told him to stay. The red-head had been nuzzling him in his sleep and clung to him everso tightly whenever he moved. With a soft smile William turned back to him, kissing his forehead gently as he removed Grell's glasses. Removing the chain without pulling Grell's hair or waking him was tricky but he pulled it off. It would be most uncomfortable for Grell to sleep with his glasses on, especially since these glasses were of vital importance to all shinigami.

"No, don't go..." Grell cooed in his sleep, grabbing William's hand once it removed his glasses._  
><em>

_I'm not grieving for you_

_And as we lay in silent bliss_

_I know you'll remember me_

_I long to be like you_

"I won't leave Grell," he told him, "Don't be silly..."_  
><em>

_Lie cold in the ground like you_

_There's room inside for two_

_And I'm not grieving for you_

_I'm coming for you  
><em>


	12. Chapter 12

Dunno why...But I'm gonna drop out of song-chappies for a bit. Sorry...Couldn't do comic relief

* * *

><p>Since that fateful evening passed the two reapers' connection had been made absolute. Each had touched a part of their souls, whether by their own hands or the other's, both could feel this connection. It was taut to even be away, as if a single thread had been stretched between the two and each vibration or movement made their hearts wretch at the idea of the cord snapping. William, as required, went and got his physical. Michael advised psychological testing and extended counseling, that is until he noticed his superior had no recent cuts and was in fact rather stable, thus he only advised at least four weeks of counseling and a psychological test to see if his superior was stable enough to return to work. He did notice the wound on his chest which was almost healed. It was vital he'd be in a stress-free environment during his counseling and he knew how much work a reaper had on an average day. He advised William to use his sick days and vacation days.<p>

All of which, after Grell's shift ended, he found his home being graced by the red reaper. As it was polite, he engaged Grell in small talk about his day and how work went. The red reaper had been surprisingly adamant about finishing his work, often saying with great enthusiasm that he didn't want overtime because he wanted to spend his nights with William. Then came embraces, kisses, and every now and again the intimate joy and exploration of making love. After which Grell would lay in his arms, humming a gentle tune and nuzzling him.

"Grell?" William asked.

"Hm, yes?" the red head cooed softly, eyes closed.

"I'd like to know more about you," he told him, "If we're going to be together...like this...I assume it's only vital we get to know each other a tad bit better,"

Grell sat up, staring down at him with a wide smile, "Well, you know I _love_ red, don't you?"

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><p>Not only did Grell simple adore the color red, he adored almost everything that was red. He demonstrated that with his diet; he loved red cabbage, tomato sauce, peppers, apples, cherries, any sort of red pastry, salmon, and certain meats if their ingredients dyed it a shade of red along with many other nutritious items. Some foods were the exception to the color, such as honey wafers<em>, <em>vanilla pastries_, _breads, greens_, _nuts, black tea, dark chocolate, spaghetti, and a few herbs. He often said they merely added to the flavor of _red_, that two opposing tastes created a sense of wonderment and rivalry. He lived in the duality of romance after all, it made sense. Of course the brunette had to comment that red did not have a flavor, it was more-so added for optic attraction. _Red _was a powerful color after all, it could easily attract the smallest bug to its glow.

Then William went on to tell Grell about his favorite foods. He enjoyed noodles, they were easy to prepare and supplied him with energy enough to complete his work. He enjoyed salads as well, mainly as a side-dish to cuisines he'd often pack for work. He liked many varieties of egg dishes and rices as well. In comparison to Grell's diet, which was spicy in more than one way, his own diet was rather plain and was almost routine even! One food that stood out though for William was steak. He adored well-done, charred steak. He remembered then he had bought some the other day and stored it in the ice-box. He had taken it out this morning to thaw!

Rising from the bed he asked Grell to join him in the kitchen, pulling his clothes on. The red-head whined, urging him in his languid bliss for William to come back to bed. William replied with a stoic comment and walked out of the room. Whining still, Grell stood from the bed, pulled a robe over his thin body, and followed William.

"What are you doing love~?" Grell cooed, "Come back to bed,"

"I'm making dinner," William told him as a matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" Grell wrapped his arms around his lover's waist as he worked at the stove, "Did I drain that much energy from you?"

"I'm hungry Grell," William sighed, "It's a perfectly natural function,"

Grell giggled, running his fingers along the nape of his lover's neck, "So is what we were doing a moment ago,"

He laid his cheek against William's shoulder, the scent of spices and olive oil soon filling the oil, "Mm, smells good,"

"It's steak," William told him, "Would you like some?"

Grell coughed momentarily, "No thanks, I need to watch my diet. I can't have steak twice in a week,"

William furrowed his brow, pressing the spatula into the steak in order to char the outer layer, "If you think your fat Grell, you're not. You're the thinnest shinigami in our Division,"

"Oh, so sweet," Grell nibbled on his earlobe, pricking it ever-so slightly ring a shiver of masochistic pleasure from his lover, "But how will I ever remain beautiful for you?"

William did not respond as he concentrated on preparing his dinner. The thought of Grell denying a meal prepared by "the man of dreams" seemed quite unlikely. Their relation was still blossoming, and it wasn't anywhere near mature. Having just discovered the mutual joy and expression of sexual intercourse the two were quite...Infatuated with the intimate act of exploring one another on such a personal, private basis. It hadn't occurred to him that he knew so little about Grell (aside from the fact he was a transsexual and dressed more feminine than his other dispatchers,) even in the act of trying to bond with him he was so concentrated on his own needs.

He had suggested getting to know Grell, and now he was making dinner because the conversation brought up his own needs. When they made love the brunette would forcefully mutilate himself using Grell's all-too-willing body; using his teeth, nails, tight holds, anything! He was still a lover of pain but now he was using Grell to sate his urges-his own lover. He admitted he was much better than he was before, using the red reaper like this though didn't seem right. He shouldn't just know about the reaper liked to do and what his favorite foods were, but what his disorders were.

He then realized he was perhaps in for more than he could chew...He burnt the steak a tad too deep.


End file.
